


You are Music to my Eyes

by hotarubi_e



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (but lots of drama sorry), Alternate Universe - College/University, Apparently I like being mean to my characters, Artist Keith, Changing Perspectives, Colourblind Lance, Drama, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, He's a worried adoptive dad, I really tried to make this one shorter and less full of injuries but I think I'm incapable, Insecurities, Keith will always be a Cryptid nut, M/M, Some Fluff, and so angsty (bless him), deaf keith, it's a flashback so it's not vital to the story, photographer lance, please don't let it put you off!, shiro is keith's legal guardian, there's tags in the text so that part can be skipped, warning for graphic depictions of past injuries in chapter ten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 70,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotarubi_e/pseuds/hotarubi_e
Summary: Starting a new semester as a Photography major was always going to be busy for Lance, so when he meets an enigmatic figure in a dark alley one night, it doesn't bode well for his already packed schedule. But when he learns that said person is not only on his course, but also deaf (and, loathe as he would be to admit it - ridiculously hot), things just keep getting more and more complicated.Add in learning sign language and traversing the apparently dangerous freshmen on campus, and all of a sudden Lance and Keith really have their work cut out for them as they try to learn who they are, and how they fit together.Will they manage a peaceful year? Or will the unexpected threats they face knock them down before they can even stand?**NEW CHAPTER IS A MESSAGE ABOUT UPDATES**--Inspired by 'Sharps and Accidentals' by Zizzani





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is my second posted story - if you wanna read my other (It's all about aliens and mysterious murders. Always fun and filled with angst ;) ) it's called 'Anyone but You' in the Voltron tag ^^
> 
> I said it in the summary, but this one was inspired by the wonderful story 'Sharps and Accidentals' by Zizzani - it made me want to write deaf Keith, and oh my god was it fun (sorry, Keith). If you read this one, please go over and read Zizzani's work! It's so good, and I promise you won't be disappointed. 
> 
> P.S. I still apparently can't type 'Keith' on the first try, so if I typed 'Keither' anywhere, please let me know! (Still absolutely no idea why I struggle with this so much.)
> 
> Anywho, comments and such would be SO very much appreciated, so please do let me know what you think!

‘Maaan! What a long day!’ Lance said to himself, voice straining as he stretched his back out. It was evening, already getting dark in the autumn weather, and he had been in his studio since early that morning adjusting to the new semester. He abandoned himself to a large yawn despite the scores of other students walking passed. A few turned to stare and he grinned at them, enjoying the glares they gave. He didn’t care what they thought - he’d never cared what _anyone_ thought - so why change his behaviour just to suit them? 

 

Pulling out his phone, he checked it for texts, seeing three from Pidge complaining about a problem they had encountered in their current project, and two from his boss asking if he could cover a shift later that evening. He sighed dramatically, flopping his head down to his chest in resignation. He couldn’t decline - he needed the cash. He was a second year photography major, and it was starting to seriously dig into his already meagre savings. Huffing, he typed out a quick reply as he crossed the street and headed off campus towards his apartment. He didn’t live in a dorm anymore - he had moved out pretty quickly after realising just how annoying it was to live with so many people who all stole his food - and now lived in a one bed studio apartment a short walk from the main campus. 

 

It wasn’t a bad walk; despite the few darker alleyways right on the edge, most of the campus was well lit and always populated with an almost nauseating amount of people. Still, he was tired, and all he wanted was to burrow down into his bed for the few hours he had left before his shift started. 

 

He turned into one of the alleys, humming softly to himself as he thought about his latest photos. It was a series exploring light, and he was pretty happy with the outcome of the last few, ones he had travelled all the way to the sea just to catch. He was just passing an offshoot alleyway when he heard a strange thumping sound coming from further down, followed by a startled yell and a few sniggers. For a moment he was tempted to ignore it and just walk past, when he caught the sound of a pleading voice stumbling over a string of almost unintelligible words. Pausing, he turned his head to listen. 

 

‘- stop!’ it was a man’s voice, slightly high and despite the crack, otherwise smooth. ‘Hey - give that back..’

 

Another set of sniggers. Lance frowned darkly, turning his body so he could see down into the gloom. Straining his eyes, he caught what looked like three men stood facing the wall, a fourth pair of feet leaning out from it as though the person they belonged to had been backed up against it. One of the men rushed forwards, ripping something from the fourth’s hands and throwing it on the floor, eliciting a startled yell and a miserable moan. 

 

‘Why are you doing this?’ the same voice asked, a horrible break pitching it up a few octaves. Lance saw the person the voice belonged to lunge forwards, smacking into one of the group, before being shoved back hard against the wall, and he winced at the sound of bone hitting brick. That did it - dropping his bag, he set off at a run, yelling at the top of his voice. The three attackers turned their heads towards him, startling at the urgency in Lance’s run. 

 

As he collided with the first, the other two took off in a sprint, abandoning their friend to be thrown to the floor. 

 

‘What are you doing?’ Lance yelled up at the man still pinned to the wall, not understanding why he hadn’t made a break for it as soon as Lance started yelling. ‘Get the hell outta here!’

 

The attacker below him struggled, catching Lance in the ribs with an elbow and he felt the breath leave him, falling to the ground. By the time he had rolled back over, the guy was long gone, nothing but a shadow retreating out of the alleyway. He exhaled heavily, deciding to stay lying down until the irritating sting in his ribs abated some. He turned his head, looking up at the guy he had saved. To his surprise, he was attractive - black haired and pale, he looked just a little shorter than Lance was himself, and about the same age, his sharp cheekbones and thin, pointed nose giving him a striking, model-esque look. The only downside, Lance decided, was that he had a mullet. Although even that wasn’t much of a drawback - he some how managed to make it look good. 

 

He had his head turned away, facing the direction the others had run. Lance considered him for a moment before speaking up. 

 

‘Dude! Why the hell didn’t you run?’ he asked, huffing as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. ‘I tackled that guy for you - least you coulda done was leg it,’ he frowned when after nearly a minute, the guy still hadn’t replied. He hadn’t even looked at Lance. ‘Yo! Dude!’

 

Still nothing. Sighing, Lance pulled himself to a stand, banging his fist against the guy’s shoulder. He frowned when he seemed to jump out of his skin, his head whipping round to look at Lance. 

 

‘Wha-?’

 

‘Seriously? Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people? _Especially_ when that person has just saved your ass!’

 

The guy’s face fell into a dark scowl, making Lance take a step back. 

 

‘You said something?’ he asked, moving away from the wall to brush his hands down his clothes. Lance was somewhat dismayed to see finger gloves covering his palms. Snorting, he whacked the guy’s shoulder for a second time, earning himself a disgruntled hiss.

 

‘Yeah, I did! I asked why the hell you didn’t run when I told you to! _Or_ when I started yelling - I mean, come _on!_ I gave you the perfect opportunity!’

 

The guy held up his hand, as though he were telling Lance to shut up. ‘Slow down,’ he said, gesturing strangely with his hands. ‘I can’t understand you,’ Lance laughed deprecatingly.

 

‘What the hell.. are you thick?’

 

‘No, I’m deaf,’

 

Lance felt all the colour drain from his face. Damn. ‘O-oh my god.. Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!’ Taking another look, Lance could definitely make out two white hearing aids slotted into his ears. 

 

Sighing, the man pushed himself away from the wall and walked passed Lance, leaning down to pick what looked like a sketchbook up from the puddle it had fallen in. ‘Of course you didn’t,’ he said, turning back around to face Lance again. ‘I’m not stupid enough to think you’d be that smart,’ the guy’s tone of voice had been hard, but Lance caught a strange glimmer in his eyes, confusing him. Had it been a joke? He frowned, disliking the fact he couldn’t tell. ‘Anyway - thanks. For the help. I’m Keith,’ he held out a hand, letting the other fall to his side, still holding the ruined sketchbook.

 

Hesitating, Lance took it and shook, eyeing Keith curiously. Seeing him up close like that, he could finally appreciate just how attractive Keith really was. And that wasn’t all; his voice was disturbingly clear and melodious for a deaf guy, but he wasn’t sure it was polite to ask Keith about it. ‘Lance,’ he said instead. Keith’s face crumpled into a look of confusion, his eyebrows knotting together tightly. 

 

‘What?’ he asked, leaning forwards slightly as though to get a better look at his face. Lance felt like moving back to maintain his personal space before remembering that Keith would be reading his lips. 

 

‘Lance,’ he said again, a little louder. He internally kicked himself - like the volume would make a difference. 

 

‘Lance?’ Keith repeated, and Lance nodded, looking down at the sketchbook still hanging at Keith’s side. 

 

‘That okay?’ he asked, pointing to it. Keith followed his eyes before understanding. He sighed heavily, throat croaking involuntarily. 

 

‘I doubt it..’ he mumbled, shaking his head. ‘Assholes..’

 

‘Why didn't you just punch them?’ he repeated himself again following another confused look from Keith. 

 

‘Oh.. T-they startled me.. I didn’t see them, and the first I knew they were there was when they pushed me into the wall. I guess.. I guess I was too shocked?’ 

 

Lance didn’t know if Keith had meant to phrase it as a question, but decided against asking him - chances were he didn’t even know what a question sounded like, so there would be no point. 

 

‘Ahh, the ol’ sneak and peak,’ Lance said, making the phrase up on the spot. He laughed at the look of utter confusion on Keith’s face, not bothering to repeat it: the expression was disarmingly cute. 

 

‘Well, I’d better get off..’ Keith said after a moment, shuffling his bag higher onto his shoulder and turning away from Lance. ‘Thanks again,’

 

Lance considered letting him go and leaving it at that, but a strange feeling in his gut talked him out of it. Reaching forwards to grab Keith’s arm, he spun him back around before holding him by the shoulders. 

 

‘Not a chance,’ he snapped, heart picking up disturbingly at the owl eyed look on Keith’s face. ‘Don’t give me that fish look - I _know_ you hurt your back. I could practically feel it myself when they shoved you. Come with me; I’ve got a shift tonight working at a coffee shop, and I’m pretty sure my boss knows first aid, she can give you a hand cleaning it and stuff, and I think she even knows sign -‘

 

Keith interrupted him by holding up his hand, jaw dropping and eyes still bugged half way out of his head. ‘Dude.. slow down. _I. Can’t. Understand._ I’m not that good at lip reading, and you’re racing,’

 

His tone prickled Lance’s skin, irritating him for a reason he couldn’t place, but he brushed it off in favour of asking for a pen and paper. Apparently Keith could read it that time, as he dipped into his bag and pulled them out. Handing them to Lance, he watched him write his message before taking it back off him. His face cleared up instantly as he caught Lance’s meaning. 

 

‘Ah-! Y-you don’t have to go to so much trouble - I’ve got first aid stuff at home -‘

 

‘I’m not taking no for an answer, dude,’ Lance insisted, writing that down too when Keith just frowned at him again. ‘Seriously - come with me. I’m sure there’ll even be a free coffee in it for you,’ he made sure to speak slower that time, and Keith seemed to keep up. He grinned as Keith’s resolve wavered. Apparently that was the secret to his heart: caffeine. Lance knew the feeling well. ‘Right! Well, my bag’s still over there -‘ he pointed back to the entrance to the alley, waiting until Keith had looked back to him before carrying on. ‘- and my work is on the other side of campus, so let’s go!’ he didn’t wait for Keith to catch up, smiling slightly as he heard the sound of running footsteps, and turned to grin as he saw a black mullet fall into step beside him. 

 

 

 

 

It took nearly twenty minutes for them to reach the front of the coffee shop, and by the time they got there, Keith was panting. Lance didn’t know if Keith was aware of how loud his breaths were, and he snickered at the thought, not a hundred percent sure why he found it funny. 

 

‘What?’ Keith asked, having caught it from the corner of his eye. Lance shook his head as he pushed the door open.

 

‘Need to work out, much?’ he asked, quirking an eyebrow at Keith’s completely vacant stare. ‘You’re breathing _way_ loud! Seriously, dude, do you like, exercise at all?!’

 

Grunting, Keith pushed past him into the shop, making sure to catch Lance’s shoulder with his fist as he went. ‘Shut it, pug - last time I checked, you’re allowed to be a little winded after getting jumped,’

 

‘..Pug?’ He asked once Keith had turned back around. Keith just nodded, a slow grin spreading across his face.

 

‘Your face is very… squished..’ he confirmed, hands motioning in the air. Lance wondered if it was sign language, but didn’t have the chance to ask as his boss rounded the corner and caught sight of them. As she was standing behind Keith, he nudged him in the shoulder, pointing towards her. 

 

‘Lance! Aren’t you a little early for your shift? I didn’t think you started until eight?’ she asked, British accent thick and - in Lance’s opinion - mesmerising. He grinned derisively.

 

‘Good evening, Allura,’ he purred, swinging his head to the side as he wiggled his eyebrows. He smirked as she frowned at him, eyes turning flat in displeasure. ‘You’re observant as ever - I am _indeed_ early for my shift. I just happened to pass by this charming chap -‘ he clapped Keith on the back, earning himself a startled squeak. ‘- facing a bit of trouble from a couple of douchebags. I stepped in, but not before they slammed him into a wall,’

 

Allura looked horrified. Covering her mouth, she turned to look at Keith and asked if he was okay. All Keith did was continue to stare at her, slightly gone out until Allura’s eyebrows pinched together and Lance decided to be nice and explain. 

 

‘Oh - side note: he’s deaf,’ 

 

Shrieking, Allura dropping her hands and apologised rapidly before restating her question. 

 

’S-sorry, I can’t understand you,’ Keith said, voice a little too loud in the small space. ‘have you got an accent? I can’t read your lips at all,’

 

‘Dude, you’re yelling,’ Lance told him, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. ‘and yeah - she’s English. Allura - do we have a first aid kit?’ 

 

She nodded, turning to the counter and ducking behind it briefly. She reappeared a moment later, a small box in hand. ‘I’m assuming he knows ASL?’ she asked Lance as they took a seat around one of the far tables. Keith was busy pulling his jacket off, small groaning sounds leaving his throat, and hadn’t noticed the conversation. Lance nodded.

 

‘Yeah, I guess - haven’t asked, to be honest. Try it, see what he says,’

 

She tapped his shoulder, waiting for him to turn around before starting to sign. 

 

_Do you know ASL? I thought I should try it so it’s a little easier for us to talk._

 

Keith’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Eyes wide and shining, he raised both his hands and signed something back, practically bobbing in his seat in excitement. 

 

‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Allura smiled, responding to whatever Keith had said. Lance just frowned, suddenly feeling very left out.

 

_Where are you hurt?_ She signed next, watching as Keith made a few more signs, and then turned his back on her, finger pointing awkwardly between his shoulder blades. Once he had turned back again, she raised her hands. 

 

_Okay - can you take your shirt off? I’ll take a look, if that’s alright?_

 

‘GUYS!’ Lance yelled, scaring Allura half to death. Keith turned to face him slowly following Allura’s violent reaction. ‘Can you _please_ maybe say all this shit too? I don’t know what the hell you’re saying!’ he threw his arms in the air for added emphasis, and watched in horror as Keith simply signed something else, mouth still firmly closed. Allura barked a small laugh, eyeing Lance dubiously. ‘What?!’

 

‘I think you’re both in the same boat,’ she explained, signing as she spoke so as not to exclude Keith. They cocked their heads in sync, almost unnerving Allura. ‘You’re both complaining that you can’t understand the other,’

 

‘ _That’s_ what you said?!’ Lance demanded, rounding on Keith, who looked between him and Allura for a translation. 

 

‘Yeah,’ he said, face blank. ‘You talk so fast it’s damn near impossible to read - I catch like, maybe two words?’ 

 

‘How are you so bad at this?! I thought deaf people were supposed to be good at it!’

 

‘Lance!’ Allura yelled, stopping half way through her translation. However, Keith just gave a low laugh, signing that it was okay. Carrying on, Allura and Lance waited for his response. 

 

‘I haven’t always been deaf,’ he said at last, signing along - Lance wasn’t sure if it was for Allura’s benefit, or out of habit. ‘I started losing it a few years ago, so I haven’t had _that_ much practice at lip reading. And accents and stuff are really hard,’

 

Ah. So that explained his voice, too. 

 

‘How do you know sign language?’ he asked out of the blue, turning to Allura. It took her a moment to collect herself enough to reply. 

 

‘My niece is deaf,’ she signed. ‘she’s only six, so she really struggles to talk unless it’s with signs. I picked it up a couple of years ago so I could talk to her more directly,’

 

Keith smiled knowingly, obviously understanding the pain of having most people talk around you rather than _to_ you. 

 

‘How many years has it been?’

 

‘Hm?’ he asked, letting Allura re-sign her question. ‘Oh - nearly four. I was eighteen. I can still hear things if they’re like, _really_ loud - and I mean _really_ ; like, fog horn right next to my ear, kinda loud. And super high pitched things too, ‘cause I lost it from low decibels to high. Apparently even that’ll be gone by the time I graduate..’ his face fell, thinking about it. Lance would have had to have been an idiot to miss the look of abject pain in Keith eyes, and couldn’t help feeling a little helpless for a moment. He couldn’t imagine losing his hearing.. what must the world be like for Keith? Completely silent and unmoving. He shook his head, spurring himself into action. 

 

‘Allura! I’m gonna make Keith a coffee - keep him entertained while I’m gone, yeah!’ he yelled, jumping from his seat and rushing off before she could protest. Keith’s voice came floating over the shop - apparently Allura had translated for him.

 

‘I want a frappuccino!’ he called, and Lance could hear the strain as he worked to raise the volume. ‘Coffee and caramel!’ 

 

‘Jeez, learn to say ‘please’, space cadet!’ he seriously hoped Allura did _not_ bother to translate that one. 

 

By the time he got back, three coffees perched precariously between his arms, Allura had managed to get Keith to take his shirt off, and was busily inspecting the nasty looking cuts and bruises spreading up his back. Wincing, he slipped Keith’s frappuccino into his hands, smiling as he jumped. 

 

‘For you, mullet head,’

 

‘…Did you just call me ‘mullet head’? Tell me I read that wrong,’

 

’No can do, because I did indeed just call you mullet head, mullet head,’ he grinned, watching as Keith’s face flickered between emotions before settling on pissed.

 

‘What the hell! Don’t ever -!’ he flinched, cutting himself off as Allura pressed a wad of gauze covered in antiseptic to a large cut making it’s way down his spine. 

 

‘Sorry!’ she whined, signing quickly to him over his shoulder. ‘I should have warned you before I did that.. I am truly very sorry. This is going to sting quite a bit though, so please do try and stay still,’

 

Keith nodded vaguely in ascent, scrunching his face up as he waited for the next round of stinging pain. Once it started, it didn’t take long for a strange low moan to make its way from his throat. Lance assumed he didn’t even know he was making it. He laughed softly, taking pity on him and grabbed his wrist comfortingly. Keith startled upright, eyes meeting Lance’s in yet more confusion. 

 

‘You sound like you’re in pain,’ he said slowly, shrugging in an effort to make it look nonchalant - no one needed to know that his heart had picked up pace and turned into a one-man mariachi band. Keith pinched his eyebrows.

 

‘Sound?’ he asked, voice so quiet Lance had to lean forwards to catch it. He nodded. 

 

‘You were making this weird noise - I guessed you didn’t know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be an amazing friend and comfort you all the same!’ he positively beamed at him, horrendously unaware of the way Keith’s heart seemed to miss several beats before settling on a pace that was decidedly too fast to be healthy. He looked down, trying to hide his growing blush. 

 

‘I _didn’t_ know.. thanks for telling me. Most people just pretend not to notice,’

 

‘Eh, not like you can help it,’ Lance grinned, catching Keith’s chin to make him look at him. It took a full thirty seconds for the intimacy of the gesture to fully hit - once it did, he frantically let go and buried his face in his arms, horrified. ‘Shit, sorry!’ he yelled, jumping to his feet to back away as far as he could. 

 

‘Oh, boys..’ Allura grinned, smirking at Lance from where she stood behind Keith’s now bright red, embarrassed back. ‘You really do know how to pick them, don’t you Lance?’

 

‘Allura! Don’t say that -!’ he started before remembering that Keith couldn’t hear what she was saying. Visibly wilting, he slid back into his seat, preparing himself for an incredibly uncomfortable silence. However, Allura had apparently finished disinfecting Keith’s back, and tapped him on the shoulder. 

 

_You can put your shirt back on now._ She signed. _I’ve cleaned it, and put a few gauze patches over the worst cuts. You might have to ask someone to replace them tomorrow if they need it, otherwise just take them off._

 

Keith nodded, fighting hard to keep the blush in his cheeks from taking over as he pulled his shirt back over his head. _Thank you. Sorry you had to go to so much trouble for me - I could have handled it myself, but L-… Lance insisted. How much was the coffee?_

 

Allura shook her head, smiling knowingly. She was going to enjoy watching those two dancing around each other in the coming weeks. 

 

‘Don’t worry about that,’ she told him, choosing to speak out loud as well as she caught sight of the ever increasing frustration on Lance’s face. ‘It’s on the house - you deserve it. Also, any friend of Lance’s is a friend of mine, so don’t fret about the ‘trouble’. I’m glad to have been able to help,’ 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets a little surprise, and Keith gets a lot of annoyance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm hoping this is going good so far! As before, comments and such would make me into a literal ball of happy. 
> 
> I suck at notes, so I'll leave it here. Enjoy!

Keith only stayed for another few minutes after that - just long enough to thank Lance and Allura once again for all their help, grab his things and stumble towards the door. Once there, he had turned briefly to glance at Lance, and Lance could have sworn that he saw Keith’s cheeks blaze with red. He had brushed it off though, determined not to read into things too much. He had done it in the past and gotten himself into horrendous trouble. 

 

But the next morning, Lance was still thinking about it as he made his way into his studio, twenty minutes late for the briefing. It was unusual to have organised meetings during studio time, and Lance had decided that it obviously couldn’t have been as important as his beauty sleep. However, as he walked in and caught sight of a strangely familiar mullet standing in the centre of his entire year, he felt his whole face fall. 

 

‘Keith?!’ he yelled, forgetting both that Keith was as deaf as a doornail, and that everyone he shared a studio space with was standing between them. Sure enough, everyone but Keith turned to stare at him, faces a mixture of shock, irritation and something that looked as though it expressed their belief that Lance was a dick. A few seconds later, Keith’s own eyes flickered over to Lance, having followed the movement of everyone else. 

 

‘Oh..’ he said, voice popping. ‘Hi,’

 

‘What the hell are you doing here? You could have said something last night about being on this course! I woulda given you some pointers and stuff and told you all about -‘ Once again Keith cut him off with a hand in the air.

 

‘Dude.. ‘ he started, before falling into a string of rapid-fire signs that Lance didn’t stand a chance in hell of interpreting. 

 

‘ _I still can’t understand you when you talk that fast,’_ another voice said plainly, startling Lance to the point of jumping out of his skin. Following it, he caught sight of a somewhat older man with tick grey hair standing by Keith’s side, eyes trained on his hands. 

 

‘What the hell… did you just read his mind?!’

 

_‘No, he read my signs, you idiot,’_ the grey haired man said, no trace of emotion in either his face or voice. The experience was all too bizarre for Lance to take. _‘He’s my interpreter,’_

 

‘Wh- woah..!’ Lance sighed, eyes bulging wide, before a pointed cough from his tutor cut him off.

 

‘Are you two quite done?’ she asked, raising her eyebrow disappointedly at Lance. He flushed and nodded quickly, stepping back into the line of the grouped together circle. ‘Good. As I was _trying_ to say - and Mr. McClain helpfully explained for us - this is Keith Kogane, who will be joining us from today. As I’m guessing you all already gathered - thank you _again,_ Lance -‘ Lance grinned brightly, earning himself another glare for his trouble. ‘- Keith is deaf. Don’t be afraid to talk to him though, his interpreter will be here to help him settle in and answer any questions for these first few days,’

 

Lance watched as Keith’s cheeks turned a subtle shade of red as he watched his interpreter’s hands fly through various signs. He wasn’t surprised, really - the way his tutor had phrased it was downright condescending. It made him want to yell that Keith wasn’t a child, but he held his tongue. It wouldn’t do anything for Keith’s confidence in himself if he were defended yet again by Lance. He would let him handle it himself. 

 

As soon as the circle broke apart, Lance made his way back over to Keith, following a disturbingly large group of people, all seemingly intent on bombarding him with questions. 

 

_‘Can you slow down? It’s hard to keep up with the questions,’_ his interpreter said, and Lance saw Keith’s face scrunch up in displeasure. He didn’t think Keith looked like he was enjoying himself. 

 

‘Sorry - what kind of art do you do?’ Lance heard one girl ask, and clocked as Keith acknowledged her subtly. 

 

_‘Mostly sound based stuff,’_ A dull silence fell over the group, everyone’s faces turning dumb. For a moment Keith looked uncomfortable, as though regretting his joke, until a loud laugh broke from Lance’s lips, and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. 

 

‘Are you for real?!’ he asked, looking up through his lashes as Keith’s face split into a combination of anger and relief. ‘’Mostly sound based stuff’! Oh my god.. I didn’t think you were that funny, mullet head!’

 

_‘I told you not to call me that!’_ Keith glowered furiously, face now beet red. 

 

‘That was a joke?’ someone asked, and Keith turned to his interpreter while he signed it out. Sighing, he nodded. 

 

‘Guess it doesn’t translate well when someone else says it..’ he said glumly, rubbing the back of his head. For a beat everyone stared at him, startled to hear his voice so clearly, before another round of vapid questions rained down on him. Thirty seconds later, and Lance decided that enough was enough - Keith looked as though he were drowning. 

 

‘Okay, okay, everybody make way, please! I think that’s enough questions for one day, don’t you? Time for Mr. Take-Me-Back-To-The-Eighties to find his space and settle in the old fashioned way - by being forced to just get on with work because everyone’s too disinterested to care about talking to him,’

 

‘That only happened to you, McClain,’ someone said, making Lance raise an eyebrow. It would have hurt, if it hadn’t come from one of the many people whose names Lance hadn’t even bothered to learn. 

 

‘Yeah, yeah, hilarious, man-bun number three,’ he snapped, grabbing Keith by the shoulders and unceremoniously steering him away from the group towards a quieter corner. He didn’t get very far before Keith rounded on him and ripped his hands away. 

 

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked, a little to loud, drawing a few unwanted stares. Keith blushed, messing with his hearing aid nervously - it was a nervous habit he guessed he was still yet to kick. Coughing, he fought to lower his voice. ‘You can’t just decide when I can and can’t talk to people!’

 

‘Can’t I?’ Lance asked, finding it strange when Keith turned away from him to look at his interpreter. ‘You weren’t enjoying yourself though - you looked majorly uncomfortable, and I figured if you found your space first, people could come up one at a time later. You know - once you’ve settled in,’

 

‘ _Or_ they’ll associate me with an ass like you and decide to stay away!’

 

‘…Dude, you’re yelling again,’

 

Keith’s blush deepened a few shades, and he turned his face away, coughing. ‘Sorry..’ he mumbled, raising his hands. 

 

_‘It’s hard for me to tell sometimes,’_

 

‘Woah, so you’re just gonna stop talking all together?!’

 

_‘Don’t push it, asshole. I’m not comfortable, so I’ll sign all I like. Maybe if you had a bit more tact, I wouldn’t feel the need to be quiet,’_

 

‘…Don’t you ever feel weird translating for people when they stuff like ‘asshole’?’ Lance asked, addressing the interpreter now. Keith made a strange noise as he attempted to follow the change in conversation, and the interpreter blinked a few times before replying.

 

‘Not at all - it’s my job,’ he said, his voice surprisingly emotive when he spoke his own words. Lance hummed. ‘But please don’t talk to me when I’m with Keith,’

 

‘Why not?’ he asked, cocking his head and entirely missing the horrified look on Keith’s face. 

 

‘Because right now I’m here to help Keith communicate - I’m not here as me. If it helps, pretend I’m not here, I’m just a disembodied voice,’ 

 

Lance shuddered. ‘That’s not gonna make me feel better, man.. that’s gonna give me _nightmares_!’

 

_‘Pansy,’_

 

Blinking, Lance felt the urge to slap the guy. 

 

‘Oh, I apologise,’ he said after a moment. ‘That was Keith. From now on everything I say will be Keith’s words, not mine,’

 

‘Right…’ Lance spun to face Keith indignantly. ‘You called me a _pansy?!’_

 

_‘Uh, yeah. Who gets nightmares cause of something as stupid as that?’_

 

‘Hey, don’t judge just ‘cause you don’t know how scary the concept of a disembodied voice is!’

 

Lance hadn’t realised he was yelling. In fact, he only came to that realisation when he heard the entire studio fall silent, and felt everyone’s eyes train in on his back accusingly. Face turning from tan to white, he would have chosen to kill himself right there if it hadn’t been for a startling peal of laughter bursting into the air and ringing wonderfully for nearly a full minute before ending - too soon, Lance lamented internally. The laugh had belonged to Keith, and he still stood with his arms around his waist, eyes closed tight and watering. 

 

‘Oh my god, I can’t believe you went there!’ he giggled, voice pitching and breaking strangely without any tone control. ‘You actually just made a deaf joke - _to_ a deaf guy!’

 

‘Alright, Lance,’ his tutor hissed, stalking over to him and grabbing his arm a little too roughly. Lance caught Keith’s interpreter tapping him on the shoulder before translating everything that was being said. ‘I think that’s enough from you now. I know you enjoy making everyone around you uncomfortable, but I _will not_ have you embarrassing a disabled student in front of _everybody_!’

 

_‘Honestly, it’s alright,’_ ‘Keith’s’ voice interrupted, making the tutor drop Lance’s arm in alarm. _‘I know Lance is a dick - I’m used to it. If anything, it’s nice that he didn’t hold back,’_

 

Spluttering, their tutor just stared at them for a beat, everyone else in the room returning rapidly to their own drama-free business. ’T-that still isn’t acceptable! What would you do if me letting Lance off encouraged everyone else in here to talk to you in the same way?!’

 

_‘Then I would either laugh, or ask them not to say that. Amazingly enough, I can defend myself. My being deaf doesn’t make me an invalid,’_

 

The spluttering returned, but Lance did a small fist pump, silently cheering Keith on. He had been right to leave Keith to set his own boundaries, after all. 

 

‘See?’ he grinned, smiling at Keith. ‘Mullet Head here doesn’t mind _at all,_ so don’t you think it’s time you let this drop?’ he leaned forwards innocently, hands clasping behind his back. 

 

_‘I still hate ‘Mullet Head’ though, douchebag,’_

 

‘Mr. Kogane! Watch your-‘ she stopped half way through, suddenly unsure of who she should be addressing, as Keith technically hadn’t said anything. A sly grin that only Lance caught made its way across his lips. Squeaking, the tutor turned and stormed off, yelling at a group of girls on the way for ‘being idle’. 

 

‘Nice one, Keithy, buddy,’

 

_‘You’re calling me that now?’_

 

‘Which one’s worse then? ‘Keithy’ or ‘Mullet Head’?’

 

‘They’re both bad!’ Keith yelled, catching his volume at the last moment thanks to the look on Lance’s face. He sighed wearily, slumping slightly where he stood. ‘Don’t call me either..’

 

‘Okay,’

 

‘What?’

 

‘I _said ‘_ okay’. Provided that you tell man-bun number three to go suck an ass,’

 

_‘I am not saying that, Lance. I think getting jumped once this week will be enough,’_

 

‘Oh yeah! How’s your back?’ he asked, face switching to concern blindingly fast. Keith felt his heart pick up its pace again, much like it had the night before and silently cursed Lance’s stupid face. 

 

_‘Uhh.. f-fine, I guess. I took the bandages off this morning - they’re alright now, and I couldn’t reach to replace them anyway, so this’ll do,’_

 

‘Are you sure they’re alright?! You shouldn’t leave them uncovered if they haven’t closed yet!’

 

‘Honestly Lance, it’s fine,’ Keith said, smiling softly. Lance decided that he much preferred it when Keith spoke for himself rather than through the interpreter. He would have told him as much, if said interpreter hadn’t tapped Keith’s shoulder and signed something Lance hadn’t said. Keith’s face shot up in surprise, and his eyes danced back and forth as he watched the signs. A small moan left him and he crumpled, the moan turning into a full blown, monster groan.

 

‘What?’ Lance asked, knotting his brows. 

 

‘I forgot I’ve gotta go to a meeting now,’ he sighed, picking up his bag from where he had dropped it. ‘It’s some introduction/ orientation thing for disabled students. Apparently it’s supposed to ‘make me feel as though I’m not different at all’ and help me make friends, or some shit,’ he waved his hands mockingly as he spoke, rolling his eyes despairingly. Lance chuckled, patting his shoulder. 

 

‘Right.. good luck, buddy. Tell me all about how _riveting_ and _not_ condescending it is when you get back,’

 

Keith snorted. ‘Yeah, will do,’

 

‘…Wait.. did you just _snort?!’_

 

‘…Yeah, what about it?’

 

‘And you _knew_ it?! What is this magic?! How did you know if you’re deaf?!’

 

Keith buried his face in his palm. ‘I _can_ feel it, you know - when I talk. I might not always know I’m making sounds, but I can at least do it on purpose, you absolute single-celled organism,’ with that, he turned and walked out, interpreter in tow, leaving Lance to stare aghast after him. 

 

 

\---

 

  

‘Ugghhhhaaaahhhhhhh!’ Lance leaned back in his chair, arms flailing as he gesticulated his rampant displeasure with the universe. 

 

‘Okay - what the hell is wrong with you?’ his best friend, Hunk asked, finally taking the bait. Lance had been making noises of varying volumes and annoyingness for the better part of an hour. They were sat in Allura’s coffee shop, enjoying a well earned break after hours of hard work. Or, more correctly, after an hour and a half of Lance pestering Hunk through text to meet up with him and improve his rapidly declining mood.

 

‘I didn’t get to show him what I learned!’ he whined, slamming his hands on the table. 

 

‘You mean that deaf guy? I can’t believe you actually learned some sign language for him - you only met him last night, right?’

 

‘I _saved his life_ last night! We bonded!’ he gestured between himself an Hunk as though that were supposed to increase the validity of his statement. 

 

‘Okay… and why didn’t you get to show him?’

 

‘Because he went off to some stupid meeting for disabled students and never came back,’ Lance huffed, dropping his head down onto his arms. He could feel Hunk’s disapproving glare without having to look.

 

‘Don’t you think that's a pretty important thing for him to go to?’ he asked, gently nudging Lance’s elbow so he could pull his work sheet out from under it. ‘I mean, he _is_ disabled, right? That’s gotta make it tough to like, fit in and stuff,’

 

‘Hunk.. my man.. my dude.. even _Keith_ didn’t wanna go! He was complaining about it as much as me! So why the hell would he not come back and praise me for all my hard work!’

 

‘…Does he _know_ you learned it?’

 

‘…That’s beside the point!’ Lance jumped upwards, flailing his arms wildly and earning more than a few disgruntled looks from the other customers. ‘I learned it! That’s _all_ that matters, and now I want Keith to see it and fawn over me for my brilliance and blatant, shining altruism!’

 

Hunk laughed fondly, smiling gently at Lance’s irritatingly grinning face. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be this far in, dude?’ he asked, deciding it was time to broach the subject; the veritable elephant in the room. 

 

‘What the hell are you talking about Hunk?’ Lance snapped, lowering himself back down to the table and his stupor.

 

‘ _This._ You fancy the guy - it’s _all_ over your face, don’t deny it! You learned sign language for him after hours of knowing him! _And_ he’s all you’ve spoken about since last night!’

 

Lance’s face lit up like a bonfire - bright red and uncomfortably hot. He did _not_ ‘fancy’ Keith. He couldn’t! He wouldn’t! ‘He has a mullet!’ he yelled, as though in protest, but all it did was make Hunk give him another knowing look. 

 

‘Lance, it’s alright if you do - just… chill out a little. The guy just moved here. Maybe let him settle in a bit first before you try and yank his pants off,’

 

‘I-! Wha-?! No way would I..! _HUNK!’_

 

Hunk burst out laughing and slapped the table like a seal, his face burning red as tiny droplets ran down from his eyes. He loved flustered Lance purely because it was so rare, saved solely for his most hopeless of crushes, and when Pidge beat him 150 plus - to - zero at the shooting game Lance claimed to be a god at. 

 

‘Lance, buddy, you are _so far_ in over your head with this - I hope you know that,’ he said, grinning wider as Lance did nothing but whine pathetically. 

 

 

 --- 

 

 

Keith was beginning to lose the will to live. When he had gone to the meeting, he had stupidly assumed that it would only last for an hour at most, but as the third hour ticked passed, he began to realise that he wasn’t going to be so lucky. 

 

So far they had given a presentation about various disabilities, all of which were apparently present in students of the college, and how the faculties provided support for them. He had learned about dyspraxia, dyslexia, CVS, cysticphybrosis, arthritis, autism and so many more that Keith had lost count. He would have normally been fairly interested - especially in finding out about how they catered for deaf students as it directly affected the next three years of his life - but for some reason he couldn’t concentrate, no matter how hard he tried. He blamed it almost solely on the fact that a certain irritating cuban face kept flashing in his mind’s eye, making his heart beat annoyingly fast, and what he assumed to be incredibly loudly. 

 

After the lecture, the leaders had then opened the floor to questions, answering well over a hundred - although if Keith were being fair, it was probably only around thirty - before splitting the students and their helpers into groups. They had then been instructed to ‘get to know each other’, asking personal questions, voicing their concerns and praises, and generally being far too forward and conversational for Keith’s tastes. He had never been a vocal person, always preferring to remain somewhat on the sidelines, but since going deaf those traits had heightened ten fold. Now, he was far more likely to avoid all social situations, and remain silent unless spoken to directly. Even then he would opt for the shortest response possible, removing himself from the situation as soon as he could. However, he wasn’t currently able to, and so instead resigned himself to his miserable, depressing fate. 

 

As _that_ thrilling activity ended, they were then told that they were going to play games - apparently as a way of practicing for potential situations that might cause them trouble throughout their following years of education. It was at that point that Keith’s last nerve snapped. 

 

_Okay, seriously, can you_ please _explain to me why the hell I have to be here?!_ He signed vehemently to his interpreter, who was stood dutifully by his side. A small smile flickered across the man’s face, but he gave no other indication of his own thoughts on the meeting. 

 

_It’s supposed to help you, Keith - they’ve organised this to try and help people like you feel more normal, more like you can handle things everyone else can._

 

_Dude.. I’ve been deaf for four years, and last time I checked, I haven’t stopped living because of it. I can handle being deaf! And I can handle everyday life too - I’ve been doing that one for like, twenty two years._

 

_That might be true, but can’t deny that you have stopped doing some things, can you?_

 

That one stumped Keith for a moment, his mind guiltily flashing towards his old career choice; he had once planned to become a professional rugby player, but after being told that within a few years he would be deaf as a post, he had decided to give it up, despite there being teams for people who were hearing impaired. He grumbled quietly, turning his head away. 

 

_Shut up._ He signed, making a noise in his throat. _That has nothing to do with college, and you know it. This is boring and useless, and they’re treating us like we’re victims or something._

 

_Then how do you want to be treated?_ His interpreter signed once Keith had deigned to look back at him. He thought about it. He didn’t really _know_ how he wanted to be treated. Over the four years that he had been gradually losing his hearing, he had just come to accept the fact that everyone would treat him as different. But after meeting Lance, he was starting to reevaluate that decision. 

 

He stopped dead, eyes blinking blankly. After meeting Lance? He didn’t know what he was thinking. What had Lance done that was apparently special enough to completely alter Keith’s state of mind in less than a full day? Sure, he had treated Keith no differently just because he was deaf, had complained about things that usually people overlooked and told him when he was being loud or making an unusual noise, but that wasn’t _so_ odd, was it? He had also made jokes, Keith reasoned, but even that couldn’t have had such a profound effect on him in so short a time. He had known other people to make jokes too. Although, he reminded himself, they were always said out of malice and a desire to deprecate rather than out of the whimsical stupidity of Lance.  

 

He frowned. Maybe Lance _had_ helped, in some strange small way.

 

Raising his hands, he paused for a beat before signing back his answer. _I want to be treated how Lance treats me. I want everyone to act how he does - like I’m no different. I don’t want people to skirt around me being deaf. I want to make jokes, and have other people make them too, not ‘cause they’re being mean, but ‘cause that’s what friends do._

 

His interpreter smiled widely, a warm fond look crossing his face. _And you can’t get that by coming to these meetings?_ Keith shook his head.

 

_This is just victimising me, making me out to be incapable, when I’m anything but._

 

The realisation hit him like a freight train, sending a strange, foreign pain shooting through his chest. That was the first time in four years that he had felt like he was capable of anything he wanted to do. It was the first time he had felt like his old self, like nothing had changed. Like he was still _Keith._ It made him smile, the corners of his mouth twitching up as the image of Lance’s grinning face flittered into his mind once again. 

 

_Then what the hell are you still doing here?_

 

The signs took him somewhat by surprise, and he blinked before watching closely as his interpreter repeated the question. He cocked his head curiously, staring at him owl eyed. 

 

_Go._ He told Keith. _I’ll stay and cover for you - I think you’d be far better off spending your time with that loud Cuban boy, not here pretending to be something you’re not._

 

Keith’s face seemed to split in two with happiness, and before his interpreter could change his mind, he grabbed his bag from the floor and skirted for the door. Head down, eyes firmly cemented on the floor in front of him, he successfully avoided noticing anyone speaking to him as he made his escape. 

 

He didn’t think he had ever run so fast in his life as he made his way back to the studio. By the time he got there, even he could tell he was panting loudly, but he didn’t care - all he wanted to do was find Lance and spend the rest of the day complaining together about stupid meetings and oblivious officials. However, as he made his way over to what was apparently Lance’s space, he felt his face fall at the blatant lack of any lanky tanned irritants. 

 

‘Hey- do you know where Lance is?’ he asked, collaring someone as they passed by. It was a girl around his age, with bright blue eyes and sandy coloured hair. She blushed slightly as Keith grabbed her shoulder, but her round cheeks eventually lifted into a weak smile. 

 

‘Sorry, no,’ she said, and Keith could tell she was speaking extra slowly and loudly so he could understand. ‘I haven’t seen him in a couple of hours. Daniel might know - Daniel! Do you…-‘ Keith couldn’t read any more after that, as she turned her head away from him to speak to a tall dark haired guy he assumed was ‘Daniel’. 

 

Daniel walked over, looking curiously from the girl to Keith. He mumbled something that Keith missed into the girl’s ear, and Keith watched as her eyes flicked over to him. He caught her saying ‘I don’t know’ before she ducked her head a little guiltily. His cheeks burned, knowing they were talking about him. It was one of the worst side effects of being deaf, he had found - people always assumed that if they just covered their mouths then it was okay for them to talk about him even though he was right in front of them. 

 

‘Hey, dude - what did you want to know?’ Daniel asked him, snapping him from his thoughts. 

 

‘Oh, uh.. I was wondering where Lance was,’ he said, suddenly uncomfortably conscious of how loud his voice might be. Daniel winced slightly, and Keith coughed, deciding to try and lower the volume the next time he spoke. 

 

‘Lance? Why’d you want him?’

 

‘I..- No reason. Just got something to talk to him about,’ he evaded, feeling his voice in his throat. He thought he had managed to control it better that time, but without Lance, he realised, he had no way of knowing. The thought scared him a little, and he wished he could find him as soon as possible. Daniel said something else then, but Keith couldn’t make it out, and stared at him somewhat blankly while he made a small noise deep in his chest. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, hoping Daniel would catch on so he didn’t have to explain he hadn’t understood. Apparently he didn’t. ’S-sorry - could you repeat that slower? I missed it,’

 

‘Ah, right, sorry dude. I said that he was complaining about… -‘ 

 

Once again, Keith failed to keep up, and felt his heart begin to race. It was awkward enough asking someone to repeat themselves once, but any more and Keith found it mortifying. Knowing that Daniel and the girl were staring at him expectantly, he held up a finger asking them to wait, before plunging his hand into his bag and pulling out a notepad and pen. He flicked over the page, hiding Lance’s messages from the night before and handed it to Daniel along with the pen.

 

‘Could you write it? I can’t read your lips,’

 

He took it back and looked down once Daniel was done. _I said that he was complaining about you just fucking off like that, and then I think he started texting Hunk. He ran off after that. He’s probably holed up in some coffee shop somewhere driving the other customers crazy like usual._

 

He blinked, confused. ‘Whose ‘Hunk’?’ Daniel took the pad back, scribbling another note before giving it back to Keith.

 

_Lance’s best friend. Big guy. African American, I think. Wears a stupid band thing around his head - it’s bright yellow, you won’t miss it. I dunno which coffee shop they’ll be in though, sorry. That everything?_  

 

Keith looked up, smiling. ‘Yeah, thanks - I think I know which one he’ll be in. Sorry about -‘ he gestured to the pad. ‘Turns out not all deaf people are killer at this shit,’

 

For a beat Daniel and the girl stared at him in horror, obviously appalled at the joke, before they both started laughing nervously. Keith’s shoulders sagged, but he forced a smile all the same. He didn’t understand why it was so terrible for _him_ to make a deaf joke given the fact that he was deaf himself. _Damn, people are tetchy.._ He thought ruefully as he thanked them both again and made his way back out of the studio and towards Allura’s coffee shop. Thankfully, he completely missed the girl turning to Daniel and saying;

 

‘He is seriously hot.. such a shame he’s deaf, otherwise I would have totally gone after him,’

 

 

\--- 

 

 

By the time Keith reached Allura’s coffee shop, he thought he might have burst a lung. One downside of giving up rugby, he realised belatedly, was that he was in considerably worse shape than he had ever been in his entire life. 

 

Pausing at the door, he stood with one hand on the handle, the other on his knee for what felt like an eternity just breathing, before finally straightening up with a huff, and going inside. He had seen the back of Lance’s head and his hands waving wildly as he gesticulated some vital point or other, and smiled softly, catching himself too late. He really didn’t understand the reaction Lance pulled out of him. 

 

As he stepped around the door, he felt his bag collide with something and turned to see a middle aged woman glowering at him, hand on her side as though she were in pain. 

 

‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, rubbing his neck. However, said woman seemed to launch into a verbal tirade, giving Keith no chance to keep up. Blushing slightly, he simply pointed at his ear and said; 

 

‘Sorry, I’m deaf,’ and let himself enjoy the look of shock flit across the woman’s face. Smiling again, he turned away and carried on towards Lance. 

 

The closer he got, the more he could make out of his companion - just as Daniel had said, he was _large._ He must have been at least six foot three, and was as wide as a door. He gulped slightly, suddenly filled with apprehension. He made it as far as Lance’s side before stopping, unable to bring himself to interrupt - he didn’t even really know what he was doing there, let alone whether or not Lance would _want_ him there. 

 

After a moment, Hunk seemed to clock him from the corner of his eye, and turned expectantly, as though Keith were meant to say something, but instead he just stayed stock still, a strange look on his face. It wasn’t until he felt Lance’s arms wrap around his shoulders that he moved, his feet finally unsticking themselves. He could feel Lance’s chest thrumming and assumed he was talking, but with Lance’s face buried in his shoulder, he didn’t stand a chance in hell of understanding. 

 

‘Lance - Lance! Let go, I can’t see you,’ he said, possibly a little too loudly as a few of the other customers turned to stare at him curiously. He ducked his face, finally managing to remove Lance from around his neck. 

 

‘Keith! There you are! Man, don’t just fuck off like that for so long - I got bored without you,’ Lance said, thankfully slowly enough for Keith to keep up. He felt himself laugh a little, the familiar bouncing feeling in his chest lightening his mood. 

 

‘Sorry,’ he said, unable to keep from signing - it was something of a nervous habit when around new people who didn’t know how to read it. Almost like a comfort blanket, he assumed. ‘I got stuck in that meeting for longer than I expected,’

 

Lance’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh yeah! How did it go?’

 

Fidgeting slightly, Keith looked around himself for a chair. Apparently Hunk realised what he was looking for and pulled one up seemingly from nowhere. Once he was sat between them both, he dropped his eyes. ‘I may have ran away,’ he sighed, scratching the side of his face between signs. ‘It was quite possibly the most useless thing I’ve ever been forced to sit through,’

 

‘Couldn’t you just like, close your eyes and stop… well, reading…?’

 

‘Lance!’ Hunk yelled, horrified. Keith was somewhat surprised that he had caught it, but thankfully Hunk was so big that even sitting on the other side of him it was possible to catch him from the corner of his eye. 

 

‘What? Dude, it’s cool - Keith doesn’t mind at all, do you, Keith?’

 

Keith just blinked, not following. 

 

‘Did you see me?’ Lance asked, cocking his head, a surprisingly gentle look in his eyes. It made Keith’s heart flip strangely. 

 

‘Yeah..’ he said, nodding, eyes trained steadfastly on Lance’s lips so as not to miss anything. ‘I just.. didn’t get your point?’

 

‘Was that meant to be a question?’

 

Keith guessed that Hunk had admonished Lance again, because his head shot up and a look of indignation crossed his features, making Keith laugh. He felt both pairs of eyes train on him, and forced himself to look back at Lance’s lips. ‘What?’ Lance asked. Keith shook his head. 

 

‘Nothing, sorry. Anyway -‘ he turned to Hunk. ‘- was what Lance said rude? I didn’t think so,’

 

Hunk said something, but Keith missed it in it’s entirety. He wasn’t sure if it was because Hunk was talking too fast or if he had an accent, but either way he had no idea. Frowning, he fidgeted a little, pulling the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Lance staring at him, a strange look in his eyes - was that.. pride?

 

‘Sorry, Hunk speaks a little fast - just tell him to slow it down a bit, and you’ll be good,’ he said, but Keith wasn’t watching his lips. Instead, he was staring at Lance’s hands, face gone slack as he watched his fingers swirl and move through various shapes he knew like the back of his hand. Lance was signing. He had just signed to Keith. 

 

Long after Lance had stopped, Keith was still staring at where his hands had been, eyes wide and jaw hanging in a free fall. It wasn’t until he saw Lance’s torso shift uncomfortably that he looked up, meeting a pair of brilliant blue - _worried_ \- eyes. 

 

‘D-did I do it wrong?’ Lance asked, eyes flicking to look over at Hunk, and Keith turned just in time to see Hunk shoot him a thumbs up. He spun back to Lance, still not understanding. ‘Keith, buddy, say something already! Do you know how hard I worked last night to-‘

 

Keith held a hand out, asking for quiet. For a second, he did nothing but tap his index finger on the air stressfully, before bringing both hands out in front of his chest. 

 

_Did you just sign at me?_

 

Lance’s eyes scrunched up momentarily before a look of brilliant understanding crossed his face along side the widest grin Keith had ever seen, and he too raised his hand. 

 

_Yep! I wanted to try and speak to you normally. What do you think?_

 

‘..W-what do I think..?’ Keith asked, unaware of how much his voice shook. He caught the look of horror in Lance’s eyes - he was clearly terrified he had somehow managed to upset Keith. ‘I.. Lance.. you learned sign language.. for me?’ His voice popped on the last syllable, breaking in a way that Lance thought was adorable. He blushed slightly and nodded. 

 

That did it. His face breaking into a smile so wide it could have swallowed him whole, Keith felt a thrum in his throat as he made a sound he couldn’t identify and he threw himself at Lance, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. He felt Lance stiffen for a moment, before his hands found their way to Keith’s back and settled there, Lance’s face resting snugly on his shoulder. 

 

’T-thank you,’ Keith mumbled, hoping his voice was loud enough for Lance to hear. He guessed it was, as Lance’s fingers tightened there hold on Keith’s jacket. ‘No one’s done that in a really long time,’

 

When he and Lance finally parted and he looked over at Hunk, Keith was shocked to see the evidence of tears in his eyes. Cocking an eyebrow quizzically, he watched as Hunk said something in rapid fire speech, handing flapping by his face like a bird. Giving up, he turned to look at Lance again, who seemed to be trying to remember a sign. 

 

‘Damn it,’ he muttered, glowering at the table top. ‘Soo.. turns out I can’t translate that, sorry!’ he laughed, running a hand through his short hair. Keith just grinned and tapped his arm. 

 

_Don’t worry - it takes a while._ ‘It took me a year to get even vaguely good at it,’

 

‘Seriously?! A whole year? What did you do before that?’

 

Keith frowned, thinking back. ‘Wrote.. mostly.. but I could still hear quite a lot back then, like, everything was just muffled and sometimes it would fade out, but generally unless it was really deep, I could catch it..’

 

Lance’s eyes flickered away quickly, before returning to Keith’s face, and he lifted his hands to sign somewhat nervously. 

 

_Hunk - saying. Saying something towards you._

 

‘You mean this one -‘ Keith said, demonstrating the correct sign for ‘to’. ‘You said ‘towards’, not ‘to’ - it’s no big deal, it still made sense,’ he turned to face Hunk. ‘What did you say?’

 

‘Oh, uh..’ Hunk seemed to hesitate for a moment, before pulling out a pad and pen. Keith huffed knowingly.

 

_How long have you been deaf?_ He read once Hunk had turned it to face him. He signed ‘four years’, looking pointedly towards Lance to interpret. After a moment of horror, he did, and grinned devilishly at them. 

 

_Ah, Keith? Hunk… wants to know… why deaf?_

 

If Keith were being honest, he had expected the question. He had also hoped it would take a little longer for someone to ask it, but he guessed he couldn’t ask for everything and get it. Blinking hard, he lifted his hands and began to sign slowly, hoping Lance would be able to keep up. 

 

_I didn’t say yet, but I used to play rugby - I was really good at it, too. I was gonna play professionally, I had trials set up with a couple clubs in Europe and stuff, and it was all looking really promising. When I was seventeen, I got into a bad tackle. I took a hard hit to my head, and ended up in a coma for a week. When I woke up, I noticed that my hearing was off - they did a bunch of tests, and said that I had damaged the inside of my ears. I wore a brace for a couple of months to stop me moving my head, and it got better, so I thought I was out of the woods. But when I was… eighteen… I got into a car crash._

 

He paused, clenching his eyes tightly shut at the memory. He had no idea if Lance was keeping up, but at that point he didn’t care. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about it in the longest time, and part of him wanted to, even if they didn’t understand. 

 

_The car was totalled… my side of the car crumpled completely. According to the doctors I was trapped in it for hours while the firemen tried to cut me out, but the delay fucked me over. They said that because I’d hit my head so hard, the bones in my ears that I’d damaged before had completely snapped and damaged the nerve sending the signals to my brain. There was nothing they could do about it, and they told me that the longer it went on, the more hearing I’d lose. They said I’d likely be completely deaf by the time I was twenty -_ he laughed sardonically. - _guess I proved them wrong there, huh?_

 

He slumped in his seat, finally daring to look up at Lance. However, he wasn’t looking at Keith - he was looking over his shoulder, and turning to follow, he caught sight of Allura stood slightly to his right, a wet glaze glistening over her eyes. 

 

‘Oh, honey,’ she said, her hand going to her chin. Keith felt his eyes widen and his pulse increase as the realisation hit - Allura had seen everything he had signed, and now knew exactly what had happened. A sharp breath pulled through his lips as the consequences registered in his brain and he realised that he was making a noise in his throat. Something wrapped around his wrist, and he guessed it was Lance’s hand, but he didn’t move. He just kept staring at Allura. 

 

_You saw?_

 

She nodded guiltily, eyes blinking back little tears. _I’m so sorry. I started walking over when I saw you three, but then I saw you signing and I couldn’t help myself. I pried into your business, and that’s unforgivable._

 

Keith hesitated, tossing it over in his head. On the one hand he was mortified that Allura had seen, but on the other.. he nodded his head, solidifying his resolve. 

 

_Allura? Could you.. if it’s alright with you, could you translate what I said to Lance and Hunk? Not here - I don’t want other people hearing it - but.. somewhere else. Later._ He looked gingerly into Lance’s expectant face. _When I’m not around._

 

_Of course._ He saw Allura sign when he turned back. She smiled at him warmly, and relayed his message to Hunk and Lance, leaving Keith to hide his face in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Keith begins to settle in to his new life, he finds out something surprising about Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, so 100 views already! That has completely blown my mind - thank you to everyone who has read it so far, and left kudos or comments. I have indeed turned into a ball of happy, and I don't think I'll be turning back any time soon.
> 
> This chapter is a little short, so sorry about that, but the next one really needs to be it's own. I do have it written but it's hella difficult to get right, so I'm probably gonna be editing for another day or so. 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who's reading! I hope you enjoy the update :)

_How did Lance pick up sign language so quickly?_

 

Keith was sitting on top of the counter of the coffee shop with Allura, legs dangling down into the work space behind it, watching as she made coffee after coffee for the customers lining up on the other side. Two hours had passed since his conversation with Lance and Hunk, and both had since left for classes - Hunk, who was in his final year of a mechanical engineering degree, had gone off for a work shop, while Lance had left for a gen ed class Keith wasn’t enrolled in. He had decided to stay at the coffee shop rather than go back to the studio, as he was still somewhat overwhelmed by everything that had happened. His silent world had been so thoroughly overturned by the introduction of Lance that he wasn’t sure he could keep up with what his heart was telling him if he didn’t take time out to breathe. 

 

Handing the cup she was working on to the waiting customer with a smile, Allura wiped her hands on her apron before signing quickly to Keith. 

 

_Lance has always been surprisingly logical - don’t give me that look, I know it’s strange, but he is - and he seems to have a bit of a genius for things like languages and other things that have a set structure. He's the same with maths; if there’s a right and a wrong, Lance will learn it perfectly in a couple of days._

 

Keith hummed, considering it. It made sense, in a way, what with Lance’s straightforward, blunt nature, always saying things how they were and never fussing around over if’s and maybe’s, but it was still odd. Lance seemed so clueless most of the time, so happy-go-lucky and as though he floated through life relying on gut feeling. But Keith figured that gut feeling and true logic could look quite similar - both were quite instinctive, and often resulted in the same ends, they just operated under opposing functionalities. He pulled a face. Thinking about it, he and Lance were complete opposites; Keith never relied on logic, always choosing to follow what his heart told him. He guessed that was why he had struggled so much over the last four years. Having his hearing suddenly deteriorate to the point of deafness had undermined his faith in everything he thought. It had made him think that he should act and react the way other people expected him to, rather than how his own instincts dictated. 

 

_I guess that makes sense._ He signed the next time Allura looked at him. Really, he thought he was probably bothering her - she was so busy with the sudden influx of customers - but he was enjoying being able to talk to someone so easily again. Only his older brother Shiro knew so much sign language, and he was currently half way across state, back in their home town. Well, he said _older brother.._ it was close enough. _If he learns it fast enough, I might be able to do with an interpreter easier than I thought._

 

_They’re not giving you one permanently?_

 

Keith shook his head, frowning. _Nope. It’s only for the first few days and then lectures when they start late next week. Apparently depriving me of my primary form of communication will ‘make me integrate myself’ more.. it’s bullshit is you ask me._

 

‘Watch your language, young man,’ Allura smiled, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Keith just smirked and signed something that made Allura open her mouth in what looked like a gasp. He watched as she looked over the counter and blushed, saying something quickly to the next customer. Following her line of sight, he made eye contact with an elderly lady who frowned disappointedly at him, and he suppressed a smile. He hadn’t sworn out loud, after all - what could she disapprove of so strongly? 

 

_I think I pissed her off._ He signed after Allura handed the woman her drink. Allura grinned and tilted her head to the side. 

 

_Don’t mind her. She’s a regular in here, and she disapproves of everyone under the age of twenty five. I don’t even think being deaf will win her over._

 

Keith barked a laugh, unaware of how loud it was. Allura thought that he would have been glad to have missed the stares it earned. 

 

_I don’t mind - I’m used to it now._

 

Allura bit her lip, looking away from him as she steamed a fresh cup of milk. _Don’t get too used to it._ She told him after it was done. _I think you might find it a little different here.. with Lance._

 

He felt his cheeks heat up, a strange nervous bubbling erupting in his gut. Blinking hard to dispel the image of Lance’s ridiculous face from his mind - for the thousandth time that day - he made a few quick hand gestures before feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. A bolt of excited anxiety ran through him - he had given Lance his number before he went off to class, and he couldn’t help but hope that it was him. However, when it clicked it open, all he saw was Shiro’s name. He sighed, faintly dejected. He opened the message regardless. 

 

**Shiro:** Hey kiddo, how’s the new school going? Ended up in the principal’s office yet?

**Keith:** Dude.. I’m at college, not high school - we don’t _have_ a principle. 

**Keith:** And it’s fine.

**Shiro:** Just ‘fine’? Nothing more to tell me? No new friends? Cute girls? (Or boys, who am I to judge.) How are classes? Has everyone been nice about everything?

**Keith:** Oh. My. God. What is this, twenty questions? Chill out, I’m only across state, not on the other side of the world. Also, I’m twenty two next week - stop treating me like a kid.

**Shiro:** God, don’t remind me! My baby brother.. an adult! And I’m not even there to celebrate :’(.

**Shiro:** And I know I’m worrying too much, but I can’t help it - this is such a big move for you, and I’m _anxious._

**Keith:** Don’t be, I’m fine. Honestly. Everyone’s been very nice.. God I feel like a loser typing that. As far as I’m aware no one’s said anything horrible about me being deaf, so you can get down from your high horse Mr. Worries-Too-Much, and chill the fuck out. 

**Shiro:** I’m glad to hear it. So.. class? How’s it going? _Have_ you made any friends yet? I know you don’t like it when I bug you about it, but you really do need to actually _try_ for it to happen, kiddo.

**Keith:** Yada yada yada I can’t hear you ~

**Shiro:** You are _hilarious,_ baby brother. A genuine comedic genius if ever I did see one. (Read one? Is that more accurate?) But seriously. Answer the question.

**Keith:** Haah… fine. Yes, classes are going well. I only started this morning, and I had that stupid meeting for disabled students part way through so I had to leave (but I ran away from that, so who cares), and _yes_ I have made friends. 

**Shiro:** Keith, for goodness sake, you have to go to those things! How are you supposed to learn to deal and involve yourself in social situations if you don’t? Tell me more about your friends.

**Keith:** Uh, I dunno? The same way everyone else does? I. Am. Not. An. Invalid. I can cope perfectly well, thank you very much. And.. his name is Lance.

**Shiro:** Lance? Nothing more? 

**Keith:** Lance McClain.

**Shiro:** Keith!

**Keith:** Fine! He’s a photographer - I met him last night on campus, and he shares a studio with me. Shiro.. he’s the first person to treat me like I’m normal since I went deaf. He doesn’t treat me any differently. He asks what he wants to ask, and even makes jokes about it. And he tells me when I’m taking too loud, or making a weird noise. Not even _you_ do that.

**Shiro:** Do you want me to? I never even thought I should - it doesn’t bother me when you do, so I didn’t even consider it. Sorry, kiddo. 

**Shiro:** I’m so glad you’ve found someone you’re so comfortable around. Am I gonna get to meet him? 

**Keith:** It’s fine, I get it. Lance is just kinda the opposite - he doesn’t think about it either, so he mentions it the same he would to anyone. Or he really does think about it and just knows I’m self conscious. I dunno. Either way, I like it. And no. Why would you?

**Shiro:** Because I’m your big brother and I’m _curious._ I care about your life, Keith, funnily enough. 

**Keith:** … He’s learning sign language for me.

**Keith:** Shiro?

**Keith:** DUDE. You there?

**Shiro:** Shit, sorry, that just took me by surprise is all. He’s learning sign language? For you? He only met you last night.. Does he..?

**Keith:** Does he what?

**Keith:** Shiro!

**Shiro:** Sorry, my breaks over. Forget that, I dunno what I was gonna ask. Tell me more about him later, yeah? We can Skype if you want - I feel like I need to see your face. Text me if you need me - talk later.

 

Keith frowned down at his phone. It was true that Shiro was always over enthusiastic about anything that concerned Keith, but that was strange even for him. What had he been about to say? Brushing it off, he shook his head and locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket. Catching Allura looking at him, he glanced up. 

 

_Everything alright?_ She asked one handed, using the other to hold the milk steamer steady. He nodded vaguely, wondering that himself. 

 

_Yeah.. that was my older brother, Shiro. He worries. It drives me insane._

 

Allura looked as though she laughed. _Try not to let it bother you - that’s an older brother’s job, you know? He wouldn’t really be family if he didn’t worry excessively._

 

Family. The word was a strange one to Keith. He didn’t really know what classified family anymore. He had lost his parents when he was young, bouncing around foster homes for a while before meeting Shiro when he was fourteen. Shiro had been twenty, and had decided to take Keith in to give him a more stable upbringing. Keith just called him his older brother because it was easier than explaining his whole life history every time someone asked. Thankfully, Shiro mostly did the same. 

 

‘Yeah..’ he sighed, jumping down from the counter. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? I feel bad just sitting here,’

 

Allura graciously shook her head. _You’re my guest._ She told him once her hands were free. _Please don’t worry about helping out, I’d much rather you got to relax a little. Lance, on the other hand.. well, I wish that boy would help out a little more, if I’m honest._

 

Keith laughed, only too able to imagine that. Lance just exuded the feeling of laziness like too-strong cologne. 

 

 

\---

 

 

The following few weeks passed in much the same vein, Keith getting to grips with college life and Lance’s group of friends, while Lance spent all of his free time perfecting his sign language. By the time Keith’s first month there had ended, he was almost fluent, only messing up a few similar signs and having to spell out complicated, unusual words. 

 

For Keith’s birthday, Lance had insisted on taking him to the beach an hours bus ride out from the campus, and had spent the day hunting for shells and sea glass, before treating Keith to a seafood meal at a nice restaurant. Oddly, Hunk and Pidge - who Keith had met at the end of his first week, and bonded with instantly over their combined love of cryptids - had both laughed when told of how they had spent their day. Neither Keith nor Lance could understand what had been so funny about it though, and so they chose to ignore the taunts. 

 

Classes had been easy enough for Keith to adjust to - lectures proved troubling at first as college professors definitely spoke far faster than high school or community college teachers did, and so it took him a while to perfect the pacing. But it was his time in the studios that was his favourite. He would spend hours on end, lost in his own world of silence and paint, working well into the night before even remembering to eat. Lance often tried to stay as long as Keith did, but after falling asleep for the third time in as many days, they both realised that Keith was simply far too much of a night owl for Lance to cope with. It didn’t bother Keith though - he was at his happiest when he was painting, and was sure he could survive a few hours company-free.

 

However, during the day, Lance would barely leave his side. It was on one such day that Keith turned to him, hands raised to his chest, ready to sign.

 

_Lance._ He waited a beat, expecting Lance to respond. When he didn’t, Keith frowned, scrunched up a stray piece of paper and flung it at Lance’s head, grinning as he jumped out of his skin. 

 

‘Keith, what the hell?!’ he demanded, his head shooting up to glare daggers at him. 

 

_You weren’t paying attention - I have a question._

 

‘You asked something? Dude, how many times have I told you - I don’t have eyes in the back of my head! If you want my attention, you can’t just sign at me, you have to make a noise,’

 

Keith’s lips shot out in a pout. He did know that, in theory, but it was often hard to remember. He had gotten so used to silence, that some times those days he forgot that not everyone lived in the same world. 

 

‘ _Sorry,_ ’ he said, turning his head away pointedly. 

 

‘Oh, so now you’re sulking, that’s _great_ ,’ Lance sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. The more he had gotten to know Keith, the more he had begun to realise his very prominent character flaws. Surly and childish, Keith had a habit of becoming disproportionately irritated by small things and subsequently falling into strops. He could also be unnervingly quiet at times, withdrawing from conversations for no apparent reason. Lance would essentially sum Keith’s personality up with the words ‘brooding’ and ‘emo’. 

 

‘Dude!’ he snapped, returning the crumpled up paper by throwing it at Keith’s own head. His face whipped round when it struck him on the temple, eyes narrowing, the little vein on the side of his head twitching with anger.

 

_What?!_

 

Sighing dramatically, Lance leaning back in his chair. He was busy editing his most recent collection of photos and didn’t have the time to deal with Keith being a drama queen. 

 

_What did you wanna ask?_ He signed, hands moving smoothly over the now familiar symbols. _I don’t have time for your shit, okay?_

 

_My shit?! Oh my god, Lance you cannot talk - you exist in a constant stream of melodrama._ Keith breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. Once he felt his blood pressure return somewhat to normal, he raised his hands again. _Can I ask your opinion on the colours I’m using? I can’t tell if they’re right for what I’m trying to express._

 

A strange look flitted across Lance’s face - a twitch in his eyebrows, a small frown pulling at his lips, and a gleam in his eyes that Keith couldn’t place - making Keith eye him quizzically. 

 

‘Uh, y-yeah,’ he stuttered, pushing himself up from his chair. He followed Keith the short way over to where his canvas was pinned to the wall, stepping close to it as Keith shifted over to the side. He paused momentarily, flicking his eyes over to Keith, catching him watching him closely. Breathing sharply, he took in Keith’s painting - it was a landscape, mountains in the background, partially obscured by a large moon at the top, and a copse of trees in the fore. He scrunched his eyes, considering it. 

 

‘Lance?’ Keith’s voice said after nearly five minutes of silence. ‘If you’re talking, I can’t see,’

 

_Oh, sorry - no, I wasn’t._ Lance signed quickly, turning his head back and forth from Keith to the painting. All his message earned was a small glare of confusion from Keith.

 

‘Then.. what’s the problem?’ 

 

Lance stumbled slightly, backing away from the painting. He didn’t know how to proceed. Wincing, he gave in, and turned to face Keith fully. ‘Uh.. Keith, I have a um.. well, a confession to make, I guess,’ he said at last, signing along. Keith’s frown deepened as he cocked his head, waiting. ‘I’m uh.. colourblind. I can’t see what colours you’ve used, so I don’t think I’ll be able to help with uh.. well, this,’ he gestured to the painting. He could tell it was exceptionally good, but further than that, he had no idea. 

 

Keith just blinked at him, face blank before he fell into a bout of loud, obnoxious laughter. 

 

‘What?!’ Lance demanded, face falling dejectedly. He hadn’t been expecting that kind of reaction. 

 

‘What the hell?’ Keith giggled once his laughter had mostly died down. He smirked again at the look of abject indignation on Lance’s face. ‘Do you seriously think I’m gonna buy that, Lance?’

 

_What do you mean, ‘buy that’? It’s the truth!_

 

‘…Lance.. you’re a photographer - of course you’re not colourblind,’

 

All Lance could do was stare at him miserably for a moment, before he turned and walked back to his desk. 

 

‘Lance! Lance, why are you sulking? I’m just saying -‘

 

_Oh, so you’re allowed to be deaf, but ‘cause I’m a photographer I’m not allowed to be colourblind?!_

 

‘What? This has nothing to do with being ‘allowed’ to do anything, Lance.. I didn’t chose to be deaf,’

 

‘And I didn’t chose to be colourblind!’ Lance yelled, not bothering to sign along. He sighed, feeling his anger abate somewhat as another look of confusion clouded Keith’s face - he hadn’t been able to read what Lance had said. Swivelling around to face him, Lance lifted his hands up. 

 

_Look, I know I didn’t tell you straight up, but that’s ‘cause I generally don’t talk about it. It’s just something I have. But I genuinely am colourblind - I wouldn’t lie to you about that._

 

Keith considered him for a moment, tilting his head to the side. He furrowed his brows, a small feeling of guilt embedding itself in his chest. Lance looked sincere, like he really was telling the truth. A horrible thought struck him - what would he do if someone reacted that way when he told them he was deaf? If they laughed and told him they thought he was lying? He felt his face fall, eyes turning wide and ashamed. 

 

_Keith, you’re making a weird noise._

 

‘Ah-! Am I? S-sorry..’ he mumbled, scratching his nose. ‘L-Lance.. are you really colourblind?’ Lance just nodded. ‘Shit.. Sorry.. Man, I can’t believe I reacted like that.. me, of all people,’

 

_Dude, it’s fine. I get it, it must be a bit hard to believe seeing as I do photography._

 

‘How do you manage it?’

 

Lance thought about it for a moment. _Mostly I just guess? But I think it’s become part of my work recently - I guess I just try and show the world more how I see it. It doesn’t really matter if my colours are off, ‘cause I can tell composition and tone, and whether things are in focus and stuff. If the colours aren’t right, then that’s just ‘cause it’s how I see it._

 

‘That’s amazing,’

 

Lance blinked. ‘Huh?’

 

‘Lance that’s.. that’s so incredible,’ Keith’s voice raised louder, his tone pitching higher in his enthusiasm. ‘I can’t believe you manage that! That’s so cool! Let me see your photos again,’ he walked to his side, nudging Lance out of the way to get to his laptop. Scrolling through the list of photos, he periodically clicked on them, small exclamations of amazement leaving his lips. ‘I can totally see it! I mean, I always loved your photos, but now I see what you mean - I always thought you were just experimenting with like, abstractism or something, but when I look at it as a comment on how perceiving colour affects our relationship with the world, it gets a whole new level of meaning,’

 

Lance tapped him on the shoulder, drawing his attention. 

 

_Can your voice GET any louder?_ He grinned, watching Keith’s face blush. He raised a hand to his mouth, embarrassed. 

 

‘Sorry - I did it again, huh?’

 

_It’s cool - it’s actually kinda nice, seeing you so enthusiastic about it._

 

‘Of course I am!’ Keith yelled, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear. ‘You’re colourblind.. but you haven’t let that stop you -‘ he stopped dead, face falling. It had suddenly struck him how differently he and Lance handled their ailments. While Lance said ‘fuck you’ and continued to do whatever he wanted, dealing with the problems as they came along, Keith had let his life ground to a halt, giving up so many things that he loved because he had felt victimised and incapable. It was like a kick to the teeth, reminding him of how badly he had handled things up until then. 

 

Catching the progressively more depressed look on Keith’s face, Lance reached out a hand and wrapped it around Keith’s shoulder, drawing his eyes back to him. ‘Keith?’ He asked, shifting a little closer. _What are you thinking about?_

 

’N-nothing.. just..’ he took a breath, glancing at the floor between their feet. _I can’t believe how well you handled this compared to me._ He shrugged. _I guess it made me think of all the things I thought I couldn’t do, but all you do is deal with it, and find a way around._

 

‘Hey, hey - Keith!’ Lance called, reaching out to grab Keith’s face, forcing him to look at him. He only let go once he was sure Keith wouldn’t look away again. _Don’t talk like that - me being colourblind and you being deaf are totally different things. I’ve been colourblind my whole life, so I’ve never seen the world any other way. I’m not ‘dealing’ with anything - I’m just doing what everyone else does. Granted, it comes out a little different, but I guess that’s art, you know? You lost your hearing, you went from being a normal, fully capable person, to having to adjust without sound. That takes a while._

 

Keith frowned, not buying it. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, Lance.. what you’re doing is amazing. Not many people could make such awesome photos without seeing colour..’

 

A cough from somewhere behind Keith startled Lance, snapping him out of his reverie. Looking up, he spotted a girl with mousy brown hair and round cheeks standing awkwardly by the entrance to Keith and Lance’s space. Blushing slightly, he tapped Keith on the shoulder and pointed behind him, indicating that there was someone there. Keith turned, jumping slightly - it was the girl he had asked for help finding Lance on his first day. He wasn’t sure why, but things had seemed a little awkward with her since, as though every time they crossed paths, she would look at him strangely. 

 

‘April, do you need something?’ Lance asked, trying to level out his breathing and get his heartbeat back under control - it had just occurred to him how close he and Keith had been to each other. To an outsider it must have looked like they were.. he shook his head, dismissing the thought.

 

‘Oh, uh.. a-am I interrupting something? I can come back?’ she asked, gesturing over her shoulder. Keith poked Lance in the arm, asking him to translate - he had found out since their first encounter that April had an incredibly thick Brooklyn accent, which made it difficult for him to read her lips. 

 

’N-not really,’ he muttered, once Lance had signed it out. ‘Did you need one of us?’ he looked back to Lance for her reply - one Lance did not give. 

 

‘I just wanted to ask Keith if maybe he could model for me at some point? I’m doing a series of portraits, and I thought he would be interesting to look at - I-I mean, in a painting sense, not..! N-not that you’re _not.._ ‘ she blushed, coming to a dead stop. Lance snickered, eyeing Keith subtly from below his lashes. 

 

‘Well then ask away,’ he said, gesturing broadly. 

 

‘W-well, I was kinda hoping you might ask him for me,’

 

‘You _know_ he’s right here, right?’ Lance asked, frowning. April fidgeted awkwardly. 

 

‘Of course, but.. he doesn’t understand what I say..’

 

Annoyingly, Keith _did_ manage to pick up on that one. 

 

‘Try,’ he said, forcing himself to smile kindly. He didn’t know why, but her statement had irritated him. He trained his eyes in on her lips, focusing. She blushed slightly, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his stare. 

 

‘Um, would you maybe model for one of my paintings? I can just take a photo and work from that if you don’t have the time to life model,’

 

Blinking, Keith felt his mouth run agape. He had caught most of it, but he wasn’t sure he had understood right, and getting it wrong could prove embarrassing - had she really asked him to model? Turning subtly to Lance, he signed his question and watched as he nodded, forced to trust that Lance was telling him the truth. If he wasn’t, he would plan the most excruciating revenge humanly possible. 

 

‘Y-you want me to model?’ he asked, nervous. April nodded, her face unsure, but once she saw the relief flood Keith’s face, she scrunched her eyebrows, not understanding. 

 

_‘Oh thank god.. I thought I read it wrong,’_ he laughed, letting Lance speak for him. _‘I was scared that if I said that, you’d think I was weird,’_

 

_Well, you are weird, dude._ Lance signed back at him, laughing as Keith reached out to hit him.

 

‘Shut up! Leave me alone, or I’ll break your iPod,’

 

_You wouldn’t! I need that to survive!_

 

‘Oh poor you, having to manage without music. Whatever would you do?’ Keith deadpanned, earning a small giggle from April that he missed. Turning back to her, he smiled obligingly. ‘ _Sure, I’ll model. When do you want me?_ ’

 

‘Um, I was thinking this afternoon or tomorrow, if you’re free? I’ll need to take a couple of photos to try out different posed and stuff, but don’t worry, they’ll all be easy. Although if you could put your hair back, that’d help - I want to include your hearing aids,’

 

Looking to Lance for translation, Keith nodded in acceptance. ‘Sure,’ he said. He started to sign, once again letting Lance play middle man. ‘ _I’ll be in the studio all day, so just come collar me whenever you need me. I’ll put my hair up, that’s fine, but I should probably let you know that hearing aids are a bitch to paint. If you want, I can try the life modelling thing? I don’t have much to do.’_

 

April laughed. ‘It’s fine - I’ll manage to paint them somehow. Thanks! If you would, that’d be a great help! My painting tutor’s been on my back about painting from life for ever,’ with that, she turned and left, leaving them alone again. 

 

_Soo.. you. Modelling. How exciting._

 

‘Shut it,’ Keith scowled, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug smile off of Lance’s face. It had sort of been Shiro’s idea - he thought that if Keith engaged more in what his classmates did, then they might end up seeing Keith more as one of them, and less as a frighteningly different entity. ‘Are you around tomorrow afternoon?’

 

Lance shook his head. _‘Fraid not. I’m going to hunt down some photos with Pidge. They said they saw a really cool old tree not too far from campus, so we’re going to take a look._

 

Keith frowned, faintly dejected. He had been hoping to spend the day with Lance again. He still hadn’t figured out why he was always so disappointed when Lance wasn’t around, but had at least managed to accept that he was. All he knew, was that he was happier when Lance was there. 

 

‘Fine - bring me back some foliage or something; I want to colour match it. It doesn’t work so well when you go off a computer screen,’ he said, turning back to his painting, not bothering to wait for Lance’s reply.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith models for April, but an unexpected event turns everything upside-down, and Lance gets a phone call he didn't see coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So the response to this story has been pretty darn overwhelming - I can't thank everyone who has read this/ left kudos/ commented enough! It really means the world.
> 
> This is a bit of an impromptu update - I had been planning on putting chapter's four and five up together, but I just couldn't wait, so here you go! I've been worrying about this one quite a lot, so any feedback on what you think would be wonderful. I have the next two chapters written, I think, so if all goes well I'll be uploading chapter five tonight or tomorrow (I like to be a couple of chapters ahead so I have some leeway for uni work and shit).
> 
> This scene was RIDICULOUSLY difficult to write, and I hope it did it well. I guess it's time to let you enjoy the drama - there's plenty in this chapter ;)

‘So you finally told Keith you’re colourblind?’ Pidge asked, walking by Lance’s side as they traipsed towards the tree they had found. ‘Took you long enough, Lancelot,’

 

‘Shut your quiznak, Pigeon,’ Lance snapped, breaking a twig beneath his foot. ‘I didn’t.. well, really know how to broach the topic with him, you know?’

 

‘Oh, in case he thought you were copying him?’

 

Lance glowered. ‘Why the hell would he think I was copying him? I had my thing first!’

 

‘..It’s not a competition, Lance..’

 

‘Well if it was, I’d win!’ He said, laughing victoriously before his foot fell down a rabbit hole. With a yelp of terror, he fell forwards onto his face, making Pidge burst with laughter. 

 

‘So how come you didn’t bring him along with you today?’ they asked once they had settled down and carried on walking. ‘I wanted to show him the signs I learned since I last saw him,’ a small pout filtered onto their face.

 

Raising an eyebrow, Lance snickered. ‘Anyone would think you were developing a crush, Pidge-aroo,’ he winked, cackling as Pidge threw a rock as his head. 

 

‘You’re one to talk, Lance! You’re so far up Keith’s ass it’s a miracle you can still see daylight!’

 

‘I am not ‘up his ass’,’ Lance huffed, folding his arms over his chest. He wasn’t. _Of course_ he didn’t have a crush on Keith. It was nearly impossible to imagine. He paused. Why had he thought ‘nearly’? Did that mean that he could imagine it? He tried, letting his mind drift over images of himself and Keith holding hands, kissing, Lance running his fingers through Keith’s hair, plaiting it - he cut himself off abruptly, feeling his cheeks rush with blood. What the hell was he doing? His heart was pounding like a drum and his face burned hot - it was obvious it made him uncomfortable, so why force himself, the thought. He realised too late that Pidge was staring at him, one eyebrow raised knowingly. 

 

‘What were you just thinking about?’ they sneered, following him with their eyes as he trudged past. 

 

‘Nothing,’ he snapped, pulling his camera up to his eye for a distraction.

 

‘Hmm, sure. I bet it _wasn’t_ a picture of Keith on your -‘

 

‘PIDGE!’

 

 

\---

 

 

Keith didn’t know what to do with himself. Shuffling his hands awkwardly, he passed his eyes from April to her friends and back again, watching as they fussed around their space trying to find something April had lost. Whatever it was - Keith hadn’t been able to read the word on her lips - it was apparently important for the painting. 

 

He was standing at the entrance to the four girls’ space, hair pulled back in a tight pony tail, little wisps falling down his face and neck, in a plain back t-shirt and jeans. April had collared him on his way home the night before asking him to dress simply in a dark colour, and he had obliged easily - most of his wardrobe was black anyway, so it made very little difference to him. Having his hair up was the only bit he was struggling to get used to. It was the first time since he had played rugby that he hadn’t worn it down. 

 

A poke to his shoulder startled him, and he whipped his head around, catching sight of April standing by his shoulder saying something, a small crease between her eyebrows. Frowning, he held up a hand. 

 

‘Can you start again? I missed what you were saying,’

 

‘Oh! Yeah, sorry, Keith. I was saying that…. ready just take a seat…-’ she pointed towards a door leading into a small annex room. ‘-….be in soon as I…. wait…. get comfortable, okay?’ she smiled brightly, and Keith thought he caught a glimmer of pride in her eyes. Perhaps she had been trying extra hard to speak clearly for him. He forced a smile, nodding. He had picked up most of it, and could pretty well guess the rest, so he turned away from her and made towards the other room. 

 

Once he got in there, he saw a low chair set up at the back of the room, three bright lamps trained on it with soft light. The back of the chair was covered with a thick reel of deep red fabric, while the floor was lined with gold, and Keith felt himself make a small amused noise. He couldn’t help but imagine himself to look ridiculous in amongst all the drapery. Taking a seat, he tried out a few more comfortable poses, before settling on leaning back, his legs straight out in front of him, knees apart. If April didn’t like it she could move him. 

 

After a few minutes of waiting, April appeared at the door, a large bag in her hands. She said something, but Keith couldn’t see her face clearly enough in the light to make out her words. HE told her so, and watched as she stepped into the light. 

 

‘I had to find my yellow ochre,’ she smiled, holding up a tube of paint. ‘I put it somewhere…. couldn’t find it for the….!’

 

It looked as though she laughed, and so he did too, feeling the familiar sensation of sound waves pushing out of his throat, now unable to hear the result. As he fell silent, April began to potter around, adjusting Keith’s position subtly, fixing his hair and moving his face so that his ear would face her canvas. He was grateful that she was so forward about it - it removed the necessity to speak, something he always appreciated. Once she was done, she grinned at him and took her seat behind the easel, scribbling something on a sheet of paper before holding it up. 

 

_I’m going to start now, so please stay still! I’ll hold my hand up when you can move._

 

He nodded, receiving a thumbs up in reply. 

 

For nearly the next hour he sat like that, eyeing April as she painted him from his periphery. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he had thought it would be, and part of him even enjoyed the thought of being painted. He had seen April’s work - it was truly amazing - and he was looking forward to seeing himself in it. 

 

Just before the first hour ended, Keith caught April jumping softly, pulling her phone from her pocket. She frowned, typed something back and held up her hand, signalling that Keith could move. Stretching his neck and back, he looked at her lips, waiting for her to speak. 

 

‘…take a break now…. back in an hour and a half, if that’s…? ….go to meet my boyfriend, he needs a favour,’

 

‘You’ll be back in an hour and a half?’ he asked, clarifying. She nodded, the concerned look in her eyes not letting up. Keith cracked his back, trying not to think about it. ‘Okay, that’s cool. I’ve got some research to do for my lecture tomorrow - I’ll just bring my laptop in here and study,’

 

‘…sure that’s okay?’ she asked, looking worried. Keith forced out his most reassuring smile.

 

‘Yeah, don’t worry. It’s quiet in here,’ he joked. He was thankful when April let out a small laugh, even if it was a nervous one. It seemed like people were slowly warming up to his humour. 

 

He got up to stretch his legs next, but when he caught April looking at him strangely from the corner of his eye, he paused and turned his face to look at her, one hand still holding his calf tightly. ‘Is something wrong?’

 

She jumped, face blushing. ‘Oh no! Sorry! …wondering, do you…?’

 

‘Huh? Sorry, I missed that,’

 

‘Do you play sports?’ she accented each word with a small pause, making sure that he got it. He felt his face fall a little slack. Where had that come from? Shaking his head, he stood up straight.

 

‘Not any more - I used to play rugby, but..’ he pointed to his ear, shrugging a little. ‘It’s a bit hard to play if you can’t hear people running at you,’

 

‘Ahh.. I see,’

 

‘Why?’

 

Her blush deepened. ‘You.. You’ve got really good muscles,’

 

Feeling himself begin to blush, he fought the urge to turn away, and tried to laugh it off instead. ‘Haha! I guess they stuck around, huh? I don’t do anything but run for busses these days. Or away from Lance - I do that a lot too,’ he said, inspecting his arm. It was suddenly a lot more interesting than April’s face. He assumed she said something else after that, but he didn’t really look up, and only left the room once she had. 

 

As soon as he had his laptop in hand, he went back, settling down on the floor by his chair to wait out next hour and a half. He checked his phone - he had several texts from Lance, ranging from complaints at his absence, to gushes of how much he loved hanging out with Pidge. Keith shook his head, as ever amazed at how Lance’s brain worked. Looking back to his laptop, he opened google. 

 

He was just about to start typing into the search engine when the lights cut out. Startling upright, he felt his heartbeat hammer anxiously against his ribs, an unsettling thumping in his temples. Had someone assumed the room was empty and turned them off? He clicked open the torch on his phone, shining it towards the door. 

 

‘Hello?’ he called, mildly aware that his call may have been useless - sure it would alert others to his presence, but not him to theirs. ‘If someone’s there, can you turn the lights back on?’

 

Nothing happened. Sliding his laptop to the floor, he stood and walked towards the door, reaching for the handle. The light switch was outside, so it was entirely possible that someone had arbitrarily flicked it on their way out. He pulled the door open, frowning when he was once again met with total darkness. The studio lights were never off. There had been plenty of times when he had gone in at two am only to find every conceivable light still switched on. 

 

Readjusting his hold on his phone, he shone the light into the open spaces in front of him, tilting his head around the door. ‘Is anyone there?’ he called again, noticing for the first time that his tongue was sticking in the back of his throat. He wondered absently what his voice must sound like. ‘Whoever turned the lights off, it’s Keith - can you turn them back on? I can’t hear if you’re there or no-!’

 

He dove backwards, hip catching on the door handle, sending a jolt of sharp pain running up and down his side. His eyes watered. 

 

A large spray can had been thrown through the stream of light coming from Keith’s phone. Someone else was there.

 

‘Hey! Who is that?! Seriously, turn the lights on! If you’re talking, I’m deaf, remember? This ain’t cool,’

 

Another projectile flew from the darkness, this time from the other side, and Keith darted backwards again, feeling the sensation of sound leaving his throat. It crossed his mind that it was most likely a scream, and he cursed himself - he couldn’t believe he would let a stupid prank make him stoop so low. 

 

Fumbling on the wall for the light switch, he was forced to turn his back on the main studio and felt a sudden wave of nauseating panic run through him. He had no way of telling if someone was behind him. He took a deep breath, and shoved the thought from his mind - it would do him no good to panic, he reminded himself. He just had to focus on getting -

 

A pair of hands fell heavily on his shoulders, grabbing tightly onto his shirt and pulling him round. He felt another yell leave his throat, and lashed out with one hand, trying to whack them away from him, but it was grabbed by another before he could hit. 

 

The first man moved one hand from Keith’s shoulder to his neck, and he felt his throat close off, struggling for air. Thrashing, he managed to get his hand free from the second attacker’s grasp, and aimed a quick hook at the first’s head, catching him in the temple. Keith dropped low as the attacker jolted to the side, avoiding the searching arms as he dived out of their grasp.

 

But then he became aware of just how handicapped he really was; while his attackers couldn’t see, they could at least listen for where Keith was. Keith, however, could not only not see or hear where they were, but also couldn’t hear how loud he was being himself. He could have been screaming out his position for all he knew. 

 

Rounding a corner, he sensed someone to his right, and ducking to his left, saw as a hand shoot out of the darkness into the exact space his head had occupied mere moments ago. He was just about to feel proud of himself, when something slammed into his shins, sending him toppling to the floor. 

 

The pain was instant, shooting up his sternum and right arm as he landed awkwardly across a chair before sliding off into a heap on the floor. His throat hummed with what he assumed were agonised groans, but he barely cared anymore - all he could think about was the pulsing pain radiating up and down the centre of his chest, making it hard to breathe. 

 

He rolled onto his side, his mind clearing just too late to notice the foot coming down from above him, and he caught it in the gut, mouth opening wide in shock and belated pain. He coughed, chest rattling, but forced himself to focus - the next time he saw the foot descending, he made a grab for it, wrapping both hands awkwardly around the ankle. With a sharp pull, he watched blearily as the body fell backwards, a vibration running through the floor as they landed hard on their spine. 

 

Keith used the time to haul himself to his feet, doing his best to ignore his screaming muscles and protesting ribs as he ran back the way he had come. If he were stalking someone he wouldn’t expect that move - not that it mattered with the amount of noise he was most likely making. 

 

He managed to dodge another attacker, catching a shine from what he assumed was a ring just as it aimed for his face, and so ducked, slipping under their arm while they were distracted. Sprinting now, he tripped on various objects before ducking behind a wall, pressing his back to it sharply and covering his mouth with his hand. He knew he was breathing loudly, but as his lungs refused to calm down, there was no other way to suppress it than by force. 

 

He had to calm down, had to think. He still had his phone somehow, still tucked tightly in his right hand, but he knew that if he unlocked it, the light would give him away. That made it all but useless, and he lamented the loss of his only lifeline. A face flittered into his mind and he felt himself whine. Lance. If only Lance were there. A hot feeling pricked at his eyes, making him hate himself. He would not cry. He wasn’t pathetic enough to allow a few stupid idiots to push him that far. 

 

Feeling his breathing finally calm, he crouched to the floor and placed his palms flat down, searching for vibrations. He had felt the floor shake when the attacker fell - it only made sense that he might be able to feel their footsteps as well. It proved useless, however, when thirty seconds later a hand grabbed his hair, yanking him to his feet. Even so close he could barely make them out, and he felt his stomach churn with dread - how was he ever supposed to win when they held such a monumental advantage over him? He didn’t even know why they were there. 

 

He was shoved hard into the wall, another whimpering vibration crawling up into his mouth. ‘W-who are you?’ he forced, totally unaware that it came out as a yell. ‘What do you want?’

 

Nothing but a hand slapping over his mouth answered. He struggled against it, fighting hard against the pressure they pushed through their arm into his head. Something gave beneath his skull, and he guessed it was the plaster board behind him, sending a jolt of pain down his neck and spine. His vision swum, colours swirling behind his eyes. He had to get out. 

 

In a last ditch effort, he raised his knee, feeling it connect sharply with his attacker’s crotch, before he saw a dense shadow crumple pitifully to the ground. Keith wished he could stop for a moment and catch his breath, let his head cease spinning, but he knew he had no time. Instead, he pushed himself away from the wall heavily and sprinted for the modelling room, hand miraculously finding the light switch as he whacked at the wall in desperation. Once inside, he spun on his heels, heart lurching painfully as he saw two men running at him, a third lying prostrate on the ground behind. A stinging buzz erupted in his throat, and he slammed the door shut, turning the lock just in time for the handle to begin rattling with the force his attackers unleashed on it. Keith backed away unsteadily, every muscle in his body screaming at him in vicious pain. He didn’t dare move; even once the handle stilled and all sign of their presence disappeared, his body refused to move an inch. 

 

It felt like an age that he stood there, every nerve trembling, eyes trained shakily on the threateningly still door, until with what he assumed was a squeak, he jerked violently, and fell to the ground, heart thrumming painful rhythms behind his ribs. He raised his phone to his face, but with such shaking fingers it took him five attempts to finally unlock it, and less to realise that he was incapable of typing out a text. So he did something he hadn’t done in nearly four years; he made a phone call. 

 

 

\---

 

 

It was almost hard to believe just how well the photoshoot had gone, but Lance found himself unable to deny it as he stared down at the thumbnail photographs displayed on his camera screen. They were incredible. He didn't think he had ever taken anything so good before, and he was still struggling to understand how they had happened. 

 

Even Pidge was uncharacteristically impressed. Usually they praised him through insults and snide jokes about how his photos would be better if he were able to see colour, but this time they were left speechless, staring down at the camera screen cupped between Lance’s hands.

 

‘What the fuck..’ he said for perhaps the thousandth time. Pidge nodded sagely by his side. ‘No, but seriously, Pidge - _what the fuck..’_

 

‘I don’t know Lance, but if you say that again I’m gonna shove that camera up your ass,’

 

‘Rude.. but -‘

 

‘I said _don’t_ ,’

 

Lance grumbled irritably. ‘Fine,’ he huffed, turning of the camera and letting it swing back down by his chest. He wanted to keep staring at them forever, but was also aware of how badly he needed to get back to the studio: there was a certain black haired emo he had to show them to. 

 

‘Keith’s gonna love them,’ Pidge grinned, reading Lance’s mind. He whirled on them, a soft blush playing on his dark skin. 

 

’T-that’s neither here nor there!’ he yelled, covering his camera with his arms as though Pidge were threatening to hurt it. Pidge barked out a laugh, slapping him on the shoulder as they walked past. 

 

‘Yeah, yeah, tell that to your ridiculously dilated facial capillaries, Lance,’

 

‘… _What?!’_

 

‘For god’s sake.. you’re _blushing!’_

 

Lance squealed and ran after them, mortified. 

 

‘Pidge - you and Hunk should totally come round again tonight - I’ll bring Keith and we can have a pizza-movie-marathon-night,’ he suggested, an impish grin lighting up his face. He was the only one who seemed to think watching movies - which, funnily enough relied on having hearing to fully enjoy, Pidge though derisively - was a good way to get Keith to integrate properly into the group. 

 

‘I dunno, we did that last week. Why don’t we do something different tonight, like group cooking?’

 

‘’Group cooking’? Seriously, Pidge? We’re not _eighty._ I want Keith to think we’re cool,’

 

Pidge felt their face crumple into a cynical grin. ‘Dude, _no one_ could _ever_ think of you as ‘cool’,’

 

Lance was about to snap back when he heard his phone ring. Assuming it was Hunk, he pulled it from his pocket about to wipe ‘accept’ when his fingers froze mid motion. In fact, every muscle in his body stopped moving. 

 

Realising a little belatedly that Lance was no longer behind them, Pidge turned to glare at their companion. ‘Hey Lance - what’s the hold up?’

 

Lance’s face was unreadable, but with a thick blink he glanced up at Pidge with wide owl eyes before looking back down at his phone again as it rang with the third unanswered call. 

 

‘Are you gonna answer that?!’

 

‘…It’s Keith…’

 

Pidge’s face dropped. ‘What? That’s not possible - he can’t _do_ phone calls, Lance,’

 

‘I know!’ he hissed, a note of fear creeping into his voice. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing Keith’s name light up on his screen evoked a dread deep in his heart. ‘M-maybe it’s a butt dial,’

 

‘Four times?’ Pidge asked skeptically as yet another round of Lance’s ring tone started up. Lance met their eyes warily for a moment, unbearably confused as to the appropriate course of action. Should he pick up? Ignore it? If Keith really did want to get ahold of him, surely he would just text? Unless something had happened that meant he couldn’t.. that settled it. Swiping ‘accept’, he held the phone to his ear, a question ready on his tongue. However, he was instantly cut off by a stream of desperate words he prayed never to hear again.

 

‘-goddamnit, Lance! I can’t tell if you’ve picked up or not, for god’s sake just text me, or I swear I’ll keep calling you ’til your phone dies. Come get me, for fuck sake, come get me, come get me. I don’t know if they’re still here, I can’t - I can’t _hear_ anything -‘

 

Lance hung up the call. 

 

Opening his conversation with Keith he didn’t even pause long enough to explain to Pidge what he had heard, rather typed faster than he ever had in his life. 

 

**Lance:** Keith what the hell? What the fuck’s going on, why did you call me?

**Keith:** Lance, Lance you gotta come quick, you gotta come get me

**Lance:** Dude - calm down. Just breathe, yeah? What happened? Where _are_ you?!

**Keith:** Studio

**Lance:** Studio? You’re in the studio? What’s wrong, did something happened? Did something say something? I swear if someone said something I’m gonna kick their ASS!

**Keith:** For fuck SAKE Lance just GET HERE

**Keith:** I can’t leave.. I can’t leave the room

**Lance:** What room?

**Lance:** WHAT ROOM, KEITH?!

 

He didn’t wait around to find out. Shooting past Pidge, he heard them yell at his retreating back, but didn’t stop to listen. All he knew was that Keith needed him, and that was more than enough to push every other thought right out the back of his head. 

 

The first thing he noticed when he got into the studio was the violent trail of destruction that blazed all over the walls and floor. Ripped canvases, smashed busts and freshly sprayed paint littered every surface, drawing a painful wince from Lance’s teeth. Rushing past it all, he cornered the wall into his and Keith’s space, Keith’s name dying on his lips as it opened empty and foreboding before him. 

 

‘What..? K-‘ he stuttered, turning on the spot. He was in the studio. _Keith was in the studio._ So where the hell was he?

 

‘Keith!’ 

 

He ran back into the main area, sweat pooling on his forehead and back, panic welling in his gut. ‘Keith where are you?! Keith!’

 

He pulled out his phone. 

 

**Lance:** Keith, I’m here, I’m in the studio - where the HELL are you??

**Lance:** Keith! Answer me!

 

It was then that he remembered the life modelling room next to April’s space - of course he would be in there if he had been working with her all afternoon. Sprinting to the door, he hammered his fist against it, cursing as the handle refused to give. He knew yelling and banging were pointless beyond measure with Keith, but the instinct was so loud that he simply didn’t care. He _had_ to get through to Keith. 

 

**Lance:** Keith, Keith - open the goddamned door.

**Lance:** Open the door RIGHT NOW, KEITH!

**Lance:** Keith, dude, I’m outside - it’s me, I’m here, but you gotta open the door for me, okay?

 

He was about to send another, angrier text when a small sound from behind the door startled him upright. It sounded like whimpering. A few bangs and crashes followed, finally superseded by the sounds of a lock turning. Lance didn’t wait for Keith to open it, rather turning the handle and forcing his way in, damn near taking Keith out as the door swung towards him. 

 

‘Lance..’ Keith said, knees giving way the moment their eyes met. 

 

In an instant Lance had him in his arm, fingers burying in pitch black hair, nose pressing tightly to Keith’s neck while Keith’s eyes rolled backwards into his head. Sitting up, Lance looked hard into Keith’s face, noticing the gentle bruising there, the red eyelids closed tight. He reached out, cupping Keith’s cheeks in his hands. 

 

A beat of panic threatened to knock Lance on his arse, but he pushed it back, settling with himself to look after Keith before he collapsed too. With this resolve, he twisted Keith’s face, searching the back of his head for signs of a bump. What he found instead was a cut three inches long bleeding down the back of his shirt collar. 

 

‘Oh, god, Keith..’ he muttered, tucking his hands under Keith’s arms to drag him over to a wall. Once there, Lance leaned him against it and sat in front of his face, hands held out by his chest. 

 

_Keith? Tell me what happened. You’re concussed and bruised as hell - this didn’t happen on its own. Who did this?_

 

A flicker of recognition ran through Keith’s eyes as they rolled open again, followed immediately by a strained sound leaving his throat. 

 

_I know you feel shitty, Keith, and I know your head’s a mess, but you gotta answer me, yeah?_ He signed slowly. Finally Keith looked straight at him, pupils pinpricking as he tried to make out Lance’s face.

 

‘L-Lance?’ he asked, frowning as he dropped his head forwards onto his knees. Lance had to lift it back up in order to reply.

 

_Yeah, yeah it’s me, Keith, I’m here. Can you tell me what happened? I gotta know._

 

’T-three of them.. I don’t.. don’t remember..’ his head swivelled, his neck seeming to loose all strength as he flopped down into Lance’s arms. Sighing heavily, Lance gave up on trying to communicate, favouring instead the idea of cradling Keith in his arms. He stayed there like that for longer than he cared to think, before settling on his next course of action. Slipping one arm from Keith’s back, he fumbled with his pocket and pulled his phone out, unlocking it deftly with one hand. Then he called 911, holding it to his ear. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from Keith's attack begins to hit, and a surprise visitor brings a rather unwanted suggestion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's been a little while since the last update - I'm so sorry for the wait! Life's been a little hectic this week, and lo and behold, I managed to go and get super sick a couple days ago, so I've been fighting through that trying to get work done, and ended up having no time or energy for writing. THANKFULLY, I've finally managed to get most of the way through chapter eight, and decided that as a celebration - and as a MASSIVE thank you to everyone who's read this silly little fic so far - I'm uploading two chapters at once! There are a couple things I need to mention though, so bare with before getting back to the drama that is Klance.
> 
> Firstly, because I'm an absolute twat, I got distracted writing this chapter and completely forgot to write who was signing what sometimes. And because I'm a LAZY twat, I couldn't be bothered to go through and add all of the 'shiro said this' 'keith said that' thing, so I'd just added two little symbols instead. Basically, if there's a > before hand, Keith's signing, and if there's a < then it's Shiro. 
> 
> Secondly, I have no idea how the American grading system works. Like, none at all. I could have googled it, but for some reason I didn't, and so we've ended up here instead. Sorry. Basically, at some point this chapter, Allura mentions the grade 'low 2:1' - that's basically the English grade for middle ground. It goes fail, 3rd, 2:2, 2:1 and 1st, so a low 2:1 is like, 60-65%. It's a good grade, but not like, good enough for Mr. I-wanna-beat-Keith-into-the-dirt, you know? (woo hoo, I got a few of those, go me)
> 
> OKAY - on to the fic! (And a massive second thank you to everyone who's read this, commented, kudos'd etc! I love you all! (And an equally massive apology for this note.. I get weird when I'm sick, sorry))

 

 

‘They said he’ll be okay in a couple days or so,’ Lance sighed, wilting into the back of the waiting room chair. He was sitting with Pidge, Hunk and Allura in the hospital, having just finished speaking with the doctor. ‘Apparently he’s kinda concussed - but to be honest, I knew that already - and he was in shock, too. Not that I can blame him.. they basically _hunted_ him..’ he shivered, an anger he’d never thought himself capable of ricochetting through his brain. 

 

‘What about the rest of his injuries?’ Hunk asked, eyes glistening with moisture. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d had the phone call from Lance an hour before. It felt like years he’d been sat there waiting. 

 

‘He’s got some bruised ribs - none broken, thank god - and cuts and bruises literally _everywhere_ , but aside from the concussion nothing really bad,’

 

‘Quiznak..’ Pidge muttered, hand still firmly over their mouth. They had been sat like that since they first appeared in the waiting room doorway. ‘I genuinely thought he was gonna die when you called..’

 

‘Don’t say that!’ Lance snapped, torso shooting up straight as he glared daggers into Pidge. It didn’t take long for the anger to soften though, and once it did he slumped back into his chair once more. ‘…I thought he was going to when I picked up the phone. I know it was the concussion talking, but he sounded so _scared_..’

 

‘Do we know why they did it yet?’ Allura asked, sitting down gently by Lance’s side to rub his shoulder comfortingly. Lance shook his head.

 

‘No.. but if there were three of them, I’m guessing it was the same guys from last time. Maybe they were pissed they got beat and went back for more. But if it’s that, then why not go after me? I’m the one that tackled the guy. How did they even know who Keith _is?_ ’

 

‘Wait, wait, wait.. _Last time?!_ ’ Hunk yelled, eyes wide as saucers. Lance looked up weakly, nodding his head. 

 

‘Yeah.. night I met him, remember? When he got jumped?’

 

Hunk nodded, the memories coming back. ‘When can we go in and see him?’ he asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder. He hated hospitals, and just wanted to get Keith and leave. Lance hummed.

 

‘In a couple hours, I think - he’s asleep now, apparently, and they’re waiting on his dad getting here from across state,’

 

‘His dad?’ Pidge asked, scrunching their brow. Keith had never mentioned family aside from his older brother Shiro. Nodding, Lance rubbed his eyes. 

 

‘You guys might as well go home, it’s gonna be a long wait. I’ll stay here and hold down the fort,’

 

‘Not a chance,’ Allura told him, making him look up and see the others all nodding sternly. ‘Keith is family now, just as much as you and the rest are. We’re not going anywhere until we see that he’s okay with our own eyes,’ she tightened her hold on Lance’s shoulder, drawing a small smile from his lips. 

 

It wasn’t until nearly four hours later that they were told Keith was finally awake. Walking over to them, the doctor glanced down at her clipboard before speaking.

 

‘Lance McClain?’ She asked, eyes flitting around the group. Lance stepped forwards, nodding. ‘Hello, I’m Dr. Green, I’m the one treating Keith. My colleague spoke to you earlier - not much had changed since then. Some of the swelling from the head injury has gone down, and he’s finding it a little easier to think and communicate now. He’s still quite dizzy and nauseous, but that will go down within a couple of days at most. The bruising seems like it’s all come up now, but it is fairly extensive, I’m afraid. We’re gonna keep him in over night so we can take a few more scans of his stomach in the morning,’

 

‘His stomach?’ Hunk asked, a pinch between his brows. Dr. Green nodded, looking at him. 

 

‘It looks like he was kicked quite hard - there’s a boot-shaped bruise -‘ she paused slightly for the round of winces that rang through the group. ‘- and we want to make sure there was no damage done,’

 

‘O-okay,’ Lance said slowly, feeling his brain clear a little. He had been dozing before Dr. Green came over. ‘Can we see him?’

 

‘Of course, but please remember that he is still concussed and a little out of it, so keep it quiet, and don’t bombard him with questions,’ she turned and started walking towards a corridor off to their left, motioning for them to follow. Obliging, they started after her, before the doors to the waiting room burst open with a loud crack, followed by a frantic voice.

 

‘Where is he?! Where’s my son?!’

 

Turning sharply towards the newcomer, Lance saw a man somewhere in his mid-twenties with close cropped black hair, a longer white patch hanging over the centre of his brow. A dark looking scar split his face across his nose, and he thought he caught the flash of metal from below his right sleeve. Dr. Green was on him in a second, hands raised in an attempt to calm him, but he wasn’t having any of it.

 

‘Where the _hell_ is he? Tell me where my son is!’

 

‘Sir, please calm down! Tell me your name and I can find out for you,’

 

’T-Takashi Shirogane - my name’s Takashi Shirogane,’

 

Lance didn’t think he’d ever felt so awkward in his life, watching the poor man try and find his son. He looked so young himself that he could only guess his son was still a child. But as he heard Allura gasp, he turned to frown at her. Her face took him surprise - beneath her dark skin, it was white as a sheet. 

 

‘Okay, Mr. Shirogane - can you tell me your son’s name? I don’t have any Children in my care -‘

 

‘He’s _not_ a child!’ Takashi yelled, face twisting in terror and rage. ‘He was brought in this afternoon - he was attacked! He’s..- he’s deaf, and -!’

 

‘ _Deaf?!_ ’ Lance felt himself yell, unable to hold it back in his surprise. Takashi blinked at him, face falling blank. What were the chances of two deaf boys being brought in on the same day, both with eastern sounding names? 

 

Lance felt the colour drain from his own face.

 

‘Wait..’ he muttered slowly, holding up his hand. ‘Your ‘son’.. his name isn’t Keith, is it?’

 

Takashi positively dived on him. ‘You know him?! You know where he is?!’

 

Dr. Green interceded before Lance could get another word out. ‘Your son is Keith Kogane? Why didn’t you say? I’m his doctor,’

 

‘Good - now tell me where he is,’

 

‘Woah, woah, woah hold _on_ a second!’ Lance snapped, looking round the faces in the group. Hunk and Pidge looked frozen, and Allura had her hand over he mouth. ‘You’re Keith’s _dad_?! What the hell? I mean, I know people can look young, but damn! You’d have to have magic genes or something to look _that_ good at fifty!’

 

Takashi startled him by laughing. ‘Well, thank you for saying I look good,’ he smirked. ‘but I’m not fifty - I’m twenty eight. Keith’s not my biological son - I’m his adoptive guardian,’

 

Lance couldn’t help but feel like he had just found something out that he wasn’t meant to know. So Keith was adopted.. but that meant..- He didn’t allow himself to think it. 

 

‘If everyone wants to calm down,’ Dr. Green started, eyeing them cautiously. ‘I can take you to Keith’s room,’

 

Takashi nodded and followed her down the corridor, closely flanked by the others. They came to a stop outside of the last door, a plaque hanging next to it that read _Keith Kogane._

 

Lance was the first one in the room, and he didn’t miss the instant brightening of Keith’s eyes. Until he glanced over Lance’s shoulder and caught sight of Takashi. 

 

’S-Shiro?!’ he gasped, sitting up straighter in bed, his back pressing heavily into the pillows that supported him. ‘What the _hell_ -‘

 

‘Keith! Oh my god, Keith, I was so worried!’ ‘Shiro’ yelled, signing along as he dove towards Keith’s bed. ‘I got a call when I was at work saying you were attacked! I came straight here,’

 

‘No -‘ Keith insisted, turning his face sharply away - conveniently avoiding Lance’s questioning gaze. ‘No, you’re across state! You’re not meant to be here - I didn’t _want_ you here!’

 

‘Keith - Keith for god’s sake, look at me,’ Shiro huffed, turning Keith’s face forcibly back towards him. ‘You couldn’t seriously expect me to stay away after I found out you were hurt, could you?’ 

 

A small look of guilt crossed Keith’s face as he read Shiro’s hand movements, a reluctant sounding noise escaping his throat. Lance glanced behind him to see how the others were faring in the dramatic familial reunion, only to find that they had all hung back outside of the door, and was about to join them when he heard Keith’s voice calling him name.

 

‘Lance? Lance - don’t go,’

 

He turned back around, nerves playing in his brain. He felt like he wasn’t supposed to be there, wasn’t supposed to witness what he was seeing. Especially knowing that Keith was an orphan when he hadn’t been the one to tell him. 

 

‘H-hey.. buddy.. how you doing?’ he said, signing slowly to make sure Keith could read it. He didn’t know how concussed Keith still was. A small smile flickered into life on Keith’s face, and he pushed Shiro aside, motioning for Lance to come closer. 

 

‘A lot better than I would have been if it wasn’t for you,’ he grinned, but Lance could tell it was pained - his left cheek was entirely blue, and his eye didn’t open all the way because of the bruising. 

 

‘Because of Lance?’ Shiro asked, furrowing his brows. He knew Lance’s name well, but was still struggling to line up Keith’s descriptions with the boy in front of him. Keith nodded, eyes flicking back and forth between them. He raised his hands, tired of talking. 

 

> _He’s the one who came and found me - I called him, and he came to the studio to get me._

 

_< Really? You called him? _

 

_> Yeah.. Typing wasn’t a thing.._

 

Shiro nodded knowingly, a sad look crossing his face. Turning to Lance, he forcibly rearranged his features into a tight smile. 

 

‘Lance, if what Keith is saying is true, then I guess I have you to thank for saving him,’ he said, holding out his hand. Lance hesitated for a moment, eyes trained uneasily on the obviously metal fingers of Shiro’s hand. Taking a breath, he kicked himself into gear and took Shiro’s palm in his own, squeezing as Shiro shook their hands up and down. 

 

‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say I ‘saved him’..’ He said, feeling a small pinkness spreading on his cheeks. He caught Keith staring at him from over Shiro’s shoulder and grinned, making a concerted effort to relax. It was just Keith - there was no reason to feel so worked up.

 

Laughing, Shiro dropped his hand and sat on the edge of the bed, his knee raised up so it rested on the mattress. ‘Lance, if it wasn’t for you, who knows how long Keith could have spent in that room?’ he theorised, signing along again. Keith snorted derisively, face irritated. ‘What?’

 

‘I’m _not_ a little kid, Shiro - how many times do I have to tell you that? I would have figured out it was safe to leave eventually,’ he fidgeted a little, twisting his hands together. ‘..So maybe it would have taken me a little longer than most people, but I woulda gotten there sooner or later..’

 

‘Dude, I don’t think that’s what he’s saying,’ Lance said, taking a step forwards, his hands moving more rapidly now. ‘I think what Shiro meant - you don’t mind me calling you Shiro, right? Oh, who am I kidding, I’m gonna call you it anyway - anyway, what I think he meant is that your concussion coulda gotten way worse if I hadn’t shown up,’

 

‘Oh, so now you _are_ saying you saved me,’

 

‘Shut your quiznak, Keith! _God,_ five minutes here and you’re already being a douche,’

 

‘ _I’m_ being a douche?! Lance, you ignored my calls for like, _forever!_ ’

 

‘I thought you butt dialled me!’

 

‘Okay!’ Shiro yelled, throwing out his hands between them. ‘That is _more_ than enough of that. Lance - Keith is still hurt, remember? Take it easy. And Keith - don’t be rude to your friends,’

 

‘Don’t ‘dad’ me, Shiro,’ Keith muttered, eyes darkening sulkily. 

 

‘Well, I am your legal guardian, so I can ‘dad’ you as much as I like,’

 

Keith’s face paled instantly. Eyes widening, he glanced frantically from Shiro to Lance and back again, a slight tremor making itself known deep within his hands. 

 

‘Wh- wait… Shiro, you didn’t.. did you seriously just..?!’

 

‘Keith? What’s wrong, kiddo?’

 

Lance took a small step forwards, his hand running through his hair anxiously. ‘Keith.. kinda hadn’t told us he was adopted yet..’ he said, voice uncharacteristically small. A horrible look of understanding crossed Shiro’s face as his jaw fell wide open. 

 

‘Oh.. oh god.. Keith, I’m -‘

 

‘Hey, don’t sweat it, guys,’ Lance forced a grin. ‘It’s not like it’s gonna change anything,’

 

At Lance’s signs, Keith’s eyes popped briefly before settling on something akin to skepticism. But the overall look on his face, Lance thought, was decidedly less horror struck. Still did not remove the deep furrow between his brows, but it was a start. 

 

‘Keith, I am so sorry - I never would have said anything if I had known,’ Shiro whispered, fingers shaking. Keith shook his head, softening his eyes. 

 

‘I know you didn’t mean to..’ he looked from Shiro to Lance. ‘Shiro - would you give us a minute?’

 

Shiro looked unsure, wavering between wanting to stay by Keith’s side, and wanting to give him his freedom. Settling on the latter, he nodded briskly, walking out the door. Before it could close, he turned and held it with one hand, looking back in. ‘I’ll get the key to your apartment from the nurses and stay there tonight. We can talk more tomorrow morning, okay?’ he dipped his head slightly, and moved his hand, letting the door swing shut behind him.

 

Once the door was closed, Lance took Shiro’s place on the side of the bed, fighting the urge to take Keith’s hand.

 

‘So.. how ya feeling?’ he sang, trying to lighten the mood. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. 

 

‘I feel fine, Lance,’ Keith sighed, leaning back. Lance snorted arbitrarily, dismissing Keith’s blatant lie. ‘I’m more bothered by what Shiro said,’ he switched to signing. _It’s not that I was trying to hide it from you, but.. well, I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet._

 

 _Keith, dude, don’t worry about that - like I’m gonna care._  Lance insisted.His eyebrows shot up in alarm. _I-I mean, of course I care, how could I not care, but I mean I don’t care that you’re.. - It doesn't -_

 

Keith held up a hand, a small laugh bubbling in his throat. 

 

 _I know what you mean, it’s fine._ He smiled, drawing one from Lance in return. 

 

 _Do you remember anything about what happened?_ Lance asked after a moment of silence, not wanting to think about the mess in the studio, but needing to know. Keith’s face darkened, but he didn’t shy away. 

 

 _I do._ He signed. _I remember everything, but I didn’t get a look at their faces. I was thinking though.. could it have been the same guys from a month ago? There were three then, too._

 

Lance's mouth set hard. _I_ _thought the same thing. To be honest, I think we all did. Keith -_ He took a breath, steadying himself. _Where was April? Why wasn’t she there?_

 

_She got a message from her boyfriend - he asked her to do him a favour, so she left. But it was weird.. it was right after she left that the lights turned out.._

 

‘You don’t think..?’ Lance didn’t even want to consider it, that April may have played a part, but the possibility was too strong to ignore. For it to have been a coincidence, it would have had to have been the biggest in history. 

 

 _I don’t want to think that of her, Lance.._ Keith’s sigh was broken by a small hiccup, making Lance’s heart tighten. _She was being so nice before it happened.. She was..-_ He stopped, eyes closing as his fists clenched. 

 

Lance reached out to wrap his own fingers around Keith’s hands, squeezing comfortingly. He couldn’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for him. Once Keith had calmed down enough to once again open his eyes, Lance leaned in close, speaking as slowly as he could so that he could keep their hands entwined. 

 

‘I can’t imagine what it was like for you, Keith, but you’re okay now. I’m not gonna let this happen again,’

 

The shock in Keith’s eyes was enough to blindside Lance, his chest flipping strangely - but, he thought, not all together unpleasantly. 

 

‘I’ll stay with you in the studio from now on - you don’t have to worry about this happening anymore,’

 

Keith sniffed, leaning a little closer to Lance. ‘It wasn’t being attacked that scared me, Lance,’ he said, voice soft. His words took Lance by surprise, but he sat patiently, waiting for Keith to carry on. ‘I never told you, but when I used to play rugby, I had a reputation for being pretty rough on the pitch. Sometimes it would rub people up the wrong way, and they’d try to get back at me off pitch, but I always won. I’m a _good_ fighter, Lance - better than good, if I’m being honest. Before I went deaf, I would have taken those guys down in a second. What scared me..’ he took a breath, letting it shudder through his teeth. ‘…What scared me was that they turned the lights off. I couldn’t _see.._ It’s bad enough having one sense taken away, but then you take another, too? There was nothing to grasp onto.. how was I supposed to win when I couldn’t see or hear _anything?_ ’

 

Lance didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he _could_ say, he realised, with a weight as heavy as the world thudding to the bottom of his chest. How was he supposed to make that better for Keith, when he could barely even imagine a world void of light and sound? 

 

Unable to stop the groan in his throat, Lance did the only thing he could think of - he pulled their heads together and pressed his forehead to Keith’s own, feeling the small jolt of surprise ricochet up Keith’s spine. But he didn’t pull away. Rather, he sank into Lance’s embrace and rested against him, letting the comfort Lance exuded wash over him.  

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

‘So you’re Keith’s guardian?’ Allura asked, eyeing Shiro somewhat skeptically. They were sitting across from one another in the hospital cafe, each nursing large black coffees. Shiro nodded, taking a sip and wincing at the heat. 

 

‘Yeah - I fostered him when he was fourteen, but when he turned sixteen we decided to make it legal, and I adopted him,’

 

Allura’s eyes bugged a little. ‘But you’re so young,’ she said.

 

Laughing, Shiro placed his cup back on the table, his fingers spinning it gently on the spot. ‘Well, yeah,’ he smiled. ‘I was twenty when I took him in, and a lot of people I knew tried to tell me I was too young, but every time I thought of his face I just couldn’t say no. Not that he ever asked me - I think he’d resigned himself to living in group homes until he aged out. I don’t really know what it was about him that made me so adamant.. maybe that hard as glass edge in his eyes? You must have seen it,’

 

Allura gave her own laugh. ‘The one that says he can do anything,’ she grinned. After a moment, it softened into a slight, glowing line. ‘The one that says he’ll never be told no,’

 

‘Yeah.. that one,’ Shiro raised his eyebrow, lifting his cup to his lips. ‘I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was like.. even though he’d been through so much, it only made him stronger, more determined to live,’

 

‘I get that from him,’ she replied, cocking her head. ‘it was only subtle at first, but since Lance… well, lets just say that he seems almost an entirely different person when he’s stood next to him,’

 

Shiro considered it, twisting his cup in his fingers. ‘Lance, huh..’ he hummed, an unidentifiable spark in his eyes. ‘Tell me about him,’

 

‘About Lance? Oh.. well, I don’t really know what there is _to_ tell.. other than that he isn’t as obnoxious as he first appears,’ she smirked, watching Shiro’s face light up in mild shock. Obnoxious had been the first word he had thought of when meeting Lance. ‘No, he’s actually rather insecure.. I think Keith does a lot to allay some of those fears, actually - he’s surprisingly vocal in what he likes about him,’

 

‘Wait.. Keith? _Vocal?_ ’

 

‘I know! I was surprised too, but it’s true! Although he also doesn’t hold back about what annoys him about Lance, either,’ she ran a hand over her bun, squishing it between her fingers. ‘I think they bring it out in each other - Lance is so loud, that Keith has to compete just to keep up. Sometimes he still withdraws back into himself, but mostly he vies for attention now. Although nine times out of ten it’s Lance’s attention he wants,’ Allura’s eyes shone knowingly - she couldn’t help but wonder if Shiro had caught on yet. 

 

‘Hmm.. What are Lance’s grades like, do you know?’

 

‘His grades?’ she repeated, rather taken aback by the question. ‘I’m not sure… he was yelling my shop down the other day because he got a low 2:1, so I’m assuming somewhere above that? His photographs really are something special. Why do you ask?’

 

Shiro shook his head, eye firmly on the table. ‘No real reason - just trying to figure him out, I guess. Keith talks about him all the time, but I guess I was expecting something else?’

 

‘Lance is rather.. ‘singular’, I guess,’ she said, barking out a musical laugh. Shiro’s eyes lifted to look at her, widening. ‘But he is a wonderful person, and such a caring friend to Keith. They’re always together - every time Lance has a shift at the shop, Keith will slink in claiming he was just passing, but he’ll stay for hours if I let him. And then whenever Keith’s in to see me, Lance will magically appear out of nowhere,’ she gestured with her hands, feeling her heart warm at the thought of the two boys. Even Shiro gave a small smile at that.

 

‘I was wondering..’ he said at last, having let the conversation die a little. ‘…is there something I don’t know about going on between them? Not that I mind - to be honest, I’ve never had _any_ idea about Keith’s preferences - but I’d just like to know. I’ve got some thinking to do, and I want to have the full picture before I make a decision,’

 

‘Decision?’ Allura tilted her head to the side, eyebrows pinching together. 

 

‘It doesn’t matter yet,’

 

‘..Okay.. well, I think that’d be better left to those two to tell you. As far as I’m aware though, neither of them know themselves, yet,’

 

‘Hmm.. what do you think? About them,’

 

‘I want more than anything for them to be happy,’ Allura stated simply, placing both palms against the table top firmly. ‘and if that happens to be together, then good for them - I think they do each other a world of good, and it’s clear they love each other’s company - but if it’s not.. then that’s their decision. Like you said - you have no idea what type of person Keith likes. And I personally think Lance would go for anyone who interested him, regardless of gender or anything else,’

 

‘That was a very good answer,’ Shiro opined, leaning back in his chair with a somewhat sly look on his face. Allura started, and felt her cheeks heat up. ‘Ever thought about becoming a politician?’

 

‘W-well, I did actually do my major in politics..’

 

‘Ah! See, there you go!’

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

‘Keith! Keith, for god’s sake, _put that down_ before I come over there and force you back into that bed!’ 

 

Lance decided that he had chosen perhaps the exact wrong time to walk into Keith’s hospital room. It was ten a.m., and Keith was being discharged following an overnight stay. And apparently, was in the process of trying to give Shiro a heart attack. 

 

‘Ookay, ya know what? Ima just walk straight back out, and come back in…’ he mused down at his watch. ‘…say, fifteen? Give you guys some time to sort your shit out,’

 

‘Mind your language, Lance,’ Shiro snapped, huffing considerably more than he should have been - he sounded like he had run a marathon, not aided his already-twenty-two-year-old son pack a bag. 

 

‘Lance, if he told you to mind your language,’ Keith started, eyeing him bluntly over Shiro’s shoulder. ‘don’t. Right now, anything you can do to piss him off is fair game,’

 

‘Oohh!’ Lance squealed, clapping his hands. ‘I love games like this. Does this mean I can pull the white bit?’ he gestured to Shiro’s hair.

 

‘Yes,’

‘NO!’

 

‘Damn, you two really aren’t getting along this morning, are you? What’s got your panties in a bunch? Okay, turns out I don’t know how to sign panties.. Shiro?’

 

Shiro did nothing but glower at him darkly. Keith, however, stormed over to Shiro’s side, shoving him out of the way so that he could face Lance fully. ‘He wants me to move!’

 

‘ _What?!’_

 

‘That’s exactly what I said! He wants me to quit college and move back across state!’

 

‘Hey, hey! I never said ‘quit college’, Keith! Don’t twist my words!’ Shiro yelled, signing rapidly, as though the urgency of his hands would convey his anger to Keith. Lance figured that it must have worked, if the indignant growl from Keith’s throat was anything to go by. 

 

‘No, but you did say quit _this_ college! You know - the college where I have _friends,_ and a _life,_ and _Lance!_ ’

 

Lance wasn’t sure if Keith had meant it to sound so.. _different_ when Keith had said his name separately, but he felt his cheeks heat up all the same, a sudden uncomfortable pressure in his chest pushing out against his ribcage. 

 

‘Oh, because all of those things are more important than the fact that you got attacked?! _Twice,_ Keith! _Twice!_ ’

 

‘You know, I can tell your yelling, but it really doesn’t have that much affect on me anymore. Why don’t you save your breath and just go talk to someone who gives a flying fuck what you think?’

 

‘Ohh _burn,_ emo Keith!’ 

 

‘Shut up, Lance!’ Shiro rounded on him, then, eyes blazing, voice raising at least two octaves as he fought to contain all of the pent up anger and worry that Keith was raining down on him. He didn’t know how to convey to Keith just how terrified he had been when he got the call saying he was in hospital. How his first thought had been - will he be able to understand anyone if I’m not there? He didn’t think Keith could understand the fear, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and turned back to Keith. 

 

‘Look,’ he signed, doing his hardest to soften his eyes. Keith merely grunted at him, folding his arms over his chest. ‘I know you’ve settled in here, and I know you think the friends you’ve made are the be all and end all - I swear to _god,_ Lance, if you interrupt me, I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be singing for a week - but you really need to understand how serious this is,’ he gave it a moment for his message to sink in, watching as Keith’s arms loosened and then dropped altogether. ‘You were _attacked,_ Keith, and not just randomly, either. They _targeted_ you. They followed you into your studio, they waited until you were alone - no! Do not close your eyes on me, young man, you will watch until I am done! - they waited until you were alone and then turned the lights off so you wouldn’t know where they were. Do you _really_ want to keep going to a school where there are people like that?’

 

It almost looked as though Keith’s resolve wavered, Shiro’s revisiting of what had happened playing heavy on his mind. That was, at least, until his eyes met Lance’s and caught the terror there. It was exceptionally well hidden, and if Keith hadn’t been trying to find it, he didn’t think he ever would have, but there it was, crouching behind layer upon layer of glib bravado. The terror that Keith might leave him. 

 

‘Yes,’ he said at last, eyes meeting Shiro’s sternly. ‘I do. I’m not leaving, and nothing you do or say will make me. You might be my legal guardian, but I _am_ an adult, so you don’t have a leg to stand on, got it?’

 

With that, he lifted his bag, wincing as it pulled his shoulder, before grabbing Lance’s arm and towing him from the room. 

 

‘Well - it was nice to see ya again, Shiro!’ he called through the fast closing door towards Shiro’s back. ‘Maybe next time we can do this again!’


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter six! Second upload of the day! I know I said this in the notes of chapter five, but seriously, thank you to EVERYONE who's read this fic, I can't even begin to explain how much it means to me.
> 
> The two little symbols from the chapter before made their way into this one as well, so please bare that in mind - sorry if it's a little confusing! If it is, please tell me, and when I'm feeling better I'll go through and edit it out. 
> 
> Also - and I'm kinda nervous for this, for some reason - if anyone wants to come say hi to me on Tumblr, please do! My blog goes by the same name I have on here - Hotarubi_e - so feel free to come spam me and we can geek out about Klance together! I promise I'm friendly :)

 

 

‘Surprise!’

 

Keith didn’t quite know what to do. As soon as he had opened the door to his apartment, he had been swarmed by a group of excitable, bouncing bodies, all of which were holding poppers, streams of coloured paper now falling to the floor. Blinking, he felt his mouth fall open as he stared around their faces. 

 

They were all there - Pidge, Hunk and Allura, Lance stepping away from his side to join them. 

 

‘What the hell is this?’ he asked, stunned. He had been tired, aching and irritable before, but that had all been washed away, leaving nothing but a faint warm feeling behind in his chest. Something landed softly on his shoulder, and he turned to look. Shiro was standing in the doorway behind him.

 

‘I arranged it last night,’ he said as he signed one handed. He let go of Keith’s shoulder to continue. ‘I thought it might be nice for you to come home to all your friends. I.. I thought it might remind you that there are more people who care about you than who want to hurt you,’

 

A lump formed in Keith’s throat, and he coughed, trying to dislodge it. To think he had parted with Shiro on such bad terms when he had been planning something so wonderful for him. A swathe of guilt flooded his heart. 

 

‘Shiro..’ He muttered, eyes wide as saucers. 

 

‘Hey! Don’t let Shiro take _all_ the credit!’ Lance yelled, throwing himself into Keith’s side. ‘Who d’ya think pulled off the awesome surprise part, huh?! I stayed _so quiet_ about all of this on the way here!’

 

Keith laughed, unable to hold it back. ‘Yeah, I guess that’s true. Thank you Lance - the rest of you. This.. means a hell of a lot,’ he smiled round at all of them, enjoying the looks of pride on all of their faces. ‘I.. don’t know what to say,’

 

Pidge seemed to yell something, and Keith turned to Lance for translation, missing the slightly peeved look on Shiro’s face. Signing out Pidge’s message, Keith realised they had suggested they watch a movie. 

 

‘Oh, oh! Has anyone seen the documentary about the ghost shark?’ Hunk asked, grinning from ear to ear as he bounced on his heels. 

 

‘’Ghost shark’?’ Keith repeated, still looking at Lance’s hands. ‘You don’t seriously believe it’s an actual shark, do you?’

 

‘C’mon, not this again, Keith,’ Shiro sighed, pushing his hands between Lance and Keith - with no small amount of difficulty, thanks to Lance - to make himself seen. 

 

‘What? I’m just saying.. it’s _not_ a shark..’

 

‘Not a shark? Then what the hell is it?’ Pidge queried, waiting patiently for the translation to reach Keith. 

 

He fixed them with a deadpan stare, eyes boring a hole into their head. It almost made them uncomfortable. ‘It’s an alien,’

 

If Keith hadn’t been deaf, he would have heard the entire room burst into a round of laughter so obscene it could have slayed him. Instead, all he saw was every member of the group suddenly double over, clutching at their stomachs as though they were in pain. Unfortunately for Keith, though, he could still recognise that they were laughing at him, and he glowered. He turned to Shiro, the only person still stood upright, but felt his heart plummet when he saw he held one hand resignedly to his face, his head shaking back and forth slowly. 

 

‘What?! It is! It’s just a government conspiracy that it’s being _called_ a shark! It got spotted by scientists, so they _had_ to cover it up! They’re just calling it a shark to fool us!’

 

‘Oh my god… Keith! Do you.. really.. believe that?!’ Lance screamed, trying his hardest to sign coherently, but fearing he was laughing too hard to manage. 

 

‘Of course I do!’ Keith yelled back, throat burning with the volume. ‘How can you _not?!_ It’s so obvious! _It’s an alien and the government is covering it up!’_

 

‘Okay, okay - what’s your proof?’ Pidge managed to ask, turning to Shiro to take up the slack with signing where Lance was now incapable. 

 

‘My proof?’ Keith asked, squaring his shoulders. If they wanted proof, he would give it to them. After what he was going to show them, they would never be able to refute it again. Storming past them all, he ignored the flap of mouths he caught from the corner of his eyes and went straight to his laptop, which had thankfully been hooked up to his tv by someone.

 

Switching it on, he typed in the name of the documentary he had watched and immediately pressed play. However, that had apparently been a bad idea, as when he turned back to look at the room at large, everyone had their hands over their ears, pained expressions covering their faces. 

 

‘What?’ he asked innocently, glancing back at the screen. The intro song was playing, running through images of previous cryptids the series had investigated, subtitled lyrics flicking across the bottom. He felt a hand grab at his shoulder and turned to see Shiro’s pained face right next to his. 

 

_For the love of god, Keith, turn that down!_

 

‘Turn what down?’

 

_‘The volume!’_

 

Volume? Looking back at his laptop, he crouched and wiggled the mouse, eyes popping as he saw the volume bar on full. He then checked the bar on the tv - that one was on full too. How long had they been like that? He muted them both and turned back around.

 

‘Well.. I guess you really _are_ deaf,’ he saw Pidge say, and frowned heavily. Had it really been that loud? He removed a hearing aid and shook his finger in his ear, experimentally. Should he have been able to hear it if it was loud enough to cause the others pain?

 

_Keith.. how long have they been set to that loud?_ He saw Shiro sign, and shook his head.

 

‘No idea.. I don’t check - no point, I guess. Was it really that loud?’

 

‘YES,’ everyone had said it in unison.

 

‘Oh.. sorry, my bad,’ he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. He suddenly felt bad for his neighbours - had they been forced to put up with that since he had moved in?

 

Presuming he had missed something, he watched as Hunk nudged him aside and turned the volume back on. ‘Wh-‘ he started, but he was halted by Shiro’s hand in front of his face.

 

_If you mute it, we can’t hear anything - no offence, but we don’t really want to just rely on subtitles, you know?_

 

Keith hummed, confused. Was that such a problem? Thinking about it, he couldn’t quite remember just how different watching something with sound made the experience. However, he was quickly snapped from his thoughts as he was shuffled over to the sofa by Lance, before being deposited rather heavily into it’s depths. 

 

_Sit._ He signed, a - as Keith considered it - shit eating grin wiping his face. _Wait here, and I’ll bring you some of the best food you’ll ever taste._

 

‘Don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch?’ he called as Lance shot off towards the kitchen, knowing fully well that he was not going to get a reply. He was distracted by Shiro flopping down onto the sofa beside him.

 

< _So.. Lance._  

 

Keith pulled a face, eyeing Allura - thankfully she had her back turned, and couldn’t see the conversation. 

 

> _What about him?_

 

_< Nothing.. I just hear that you two are pretty close._

 

_> Did you happen to hear this from Allura, by any chance?_

 

_< A true gentleman never gives up his source, Keith. If you were more mature, you’d know that._

 

_> Wow.. Okay, goodbye, Shiro - _He had begun to stand up, but was forcefully retained by a metal hand wrapping around his wrist. 

 

_< Not a chance, kiddo - we’re talking. About you. And Lance. _Shiro cast his eyes over his shoulder into the kitchenette where Lance was fighting with the microwave. 

 

_> Oh god.. here we go. Fine, if I can’t leave - what do you want to know?_

 

_< Do you like him?_

 

_> He’s my friend, of course I do. Even if he is the biggest asshole I’ve ever met._

 

_< Language. _Shiro raised his eyebrow reprovingly, drawing a wry smile from Keith’s face. 

_< And anyway, you know that’s not what I mean._

 

Keith’s face went blank. If he didn’t mean as a friend, when what did he..-?

 

_> Oh god. _He felt his face light itself on fire, his ears igniting instantly into ash that may as well have been tumbling down the sides of his face. _> Oh god, oh god, you don’t seriously mean do I ‘like like’ him?! SHIRO!_

 

He felt the screech that left his throat, and turned in alarm to see the others staring at him, eyebrows creased questioningly at the state of abject horror on his face. 

 

‘Woah, woah - calm down, kiddo,’ Shiro told him, grabbing him by the shoulders to pull him back into the sofa. He waited until everyone else had returned to their own business before continuing. _< Have you seriously not thought about this?_

 

_> Of course not! Why would I? It’s LANCE. There’s nothing TO think about!_

 

_< Except that you really enjoy his company, and go red whenever he comes over to you - don’t deny it, Keith, have you SEEN your face right now? And then there’s the fact that he learned sign language for you. And you’ve started relying on him to translate for you rather than me._

 

_> …I have?_

 

Shiro just nodded, a small, sad smile on his face. He couldn’t deny that he felt slightly aggrieved that Keith was moving away from him, but at the same time it was the most wonderful thing in the world. To know that his for-all-intents-and-purposes son had formed a bond so close that it even overtook theirs. 

 

_> W-well, I don’t think that.. that doesn’t mean that I.._

 

_< Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo - it’s all alright, either way. Just do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable._

 

_> That definitely isn’t THIS, Shiro! _He gestured madly between them both, begging Shiro with his eyes to just be quiet. Seeming to catch on, Shiro let out a laugh, before signing once more that he would behave, and turned back to the tv to learn about why ghost sharks all classified as cryptids. 

 

Lance took that moment to return to the sofa, arms laden with plates full of food. Keith could smell it, and was rapidly reassessing his previous statement that Lance was overestimating - it smelled incredible. 

 

Shifting to his right, Shiro let Lance sit down between them, and took one of the plates he offered. The others swarmed in, each taking their own helping, until Lance was left holding only his and Keith’s. Holding it out, he smiled, enjoying the look of longing on Keith’s face as he stared at the veritable banquet. He guessed hospital food really wasn’t enough satisfy his needs. 

 

‘Don’t go making yourself sick, now,’ he sneered slowly, winking at Keith as he glowered. 

 

‘I’m not a child, Lance - I know how to eat,’ he snapped, digging his fork into a pile of mashed potatoes. Shoving it into his mouth, he moaned, letting his eyes roll back. It was possibly the best mash he had ever tasted. When he opened his eyes, he was met with five laughing faces, and felt himself blush. But it didn’t take long to get over the embarrassment - as soon as everyone else started eating, Keith’s enthusiasm was soon forgotten. 

 

‘Who made that?’ he asked once he was done, plate abandoned on the floor by his feet. From the corner of his eye he saw Hunk raise his hand, grinning wide. ‘You did? Oh my god, Hunk - you should be a professional chef,’

 

Hunk laughed, scratching his neck. ‘Thanks, dude,’ he smiled, cheeks warming with pride. ‘My grandma taught me to cook when I was a kid - mostly it’s just relaxing, you know?’

 

‘No,’ Keith stated, cocking his head. ‘I don’t. Cooking’s stressful as shit,’

 

‘Only ‘cause you’re bad at it,’ Shiro muttered. However, he had still signed it, and Lance laughed raucously at the look of abject indignation on Keith’s face. ‘beans on toast and noodles don’t count as cooking, kiddo,’

 

‘That’s not _all_ I cook!’ Keith insisted, burrowing his chin into his chest. ‘I can cook just fine - I just don’t like it,’

 

‘Sure, and I’m the king of England,’ 

 

‘I thought England had a Queen?’ Lance mused, his face pinching in confusion.

 

‘Yeah, that’s kinda part of his point, genius,’ Pidge said, voice dry and cutting. Keith couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

 

‘So,’ he said after a moment of quiet. ‘ghost sharks - still think they’re sharks after all that? Or have you finally seen sense and realised they’re aliens?’

 

Hunk hummed, looking guilty. ‘Sorry dude,’ he sighed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, that documentary was super interesting and everything, and I never knew there were so many people who like, believed in that stuff - and I’m totally gonna go look it up later, some of it was super cool - but.. well I still think they’re just sharks, Keith,’

 

Lance snickered as he translated, watching Keith’s face fall into shock. He looked around the rest of the group, expecting outrage and rejection, but only found similarly sheepish expressions on everyone but Pidge. 

 

‘Pidge - _you_ believe it at least right?’ he begged, leaning forwards slightly. ‘You _have_ to! You’re my cryptid buddy. You always defend me,’

 

Pidge fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘Well… I guess there was some convincing evidence,’ the relief on Keith’s face was immediate. ‘But.. I dunno, I get the feeling it’s some kind of misunderstood spectre, rather than an alien, if I’m honest,’

 

‘A what?’ Keith asked, frowning. He looked to Lance, watching his fingers spell out the word. ‘Oh! A spectre? Really? How come?’

 

‘Well think about when they were talking about it’s -‘

 

‘Okaay! Yeah, we’re not doing that,’ Shiro interrupted, holding up a hand. Keith scrunched his face up, sticking his lip out in a pout. ‘And there’s no point sulking at me, kiddo, you know how I feel about your cryptids or whatever they’re called,’

 

‘Yeah! And it’s totally unfair! You never let me talk to you about them!’

 

‘That’s because they don’t exist,’ 

 

Keith fell silent after that, seemingly put off by the other’s blatant dismissal of his most passionate believes. Even Lance’s taunts about turning the subtitles off on their next movie choice drew no response from him bar a clipped laugh, and after a while he gave up trying, deciding instead to simply lean it a little closer. He thought it might remind Keith that despite thinking he was mentally deranged for believing in mothman, he was still there for him.

 

After three more movies and two documentaries about Bigfoot and willow-the-wisps and still not a word from Keith, Lance finally decided that enough was enough. Opening his mouth - a _very_ witty insult ready on his tongue and finger tips - he froze, eyes popping wide. At some point Keith had apparently fallen asleep, and had just thumped gently against Lance’s side, head dipping down to rest snugly in the crook of his neck. Lance’s cheeks ran with heat and he blinked, not quite sure what to do. He turned to take a look. 

 

Keith’s face rested against his shoulder, his uninjured cheek slightly smushed in the fabric of Lance’s jumper, eyes tightly closed. As Lance watched, Keith’s lips parted in a breath, a small contented noise making its way from his throat. Part of Lance wanted to wake him, disturb his sleep so that the uncomfortable tightness in his chest would go away, but he also never wanted to move again. Never wanted Keith to be anywhere but there. Slowly moving his arm, he shuffled it so that it rested gently around Keith’s shoulders, his hand hanging by his elbow.

 

For a few minutes he watched Keith sleep like that, until he became aware of the eyes that were in turn watching him. 

 

‘I think it’s probably time we let Keith get some rest,’ Shiro whispered, making to stand. Lance glanced back at the room and watched as Hunk and Pidge nodded and reached for a few of the discarded plates. 

 

‘Yeah,’ Hunk agreed. ‘guy’s probably exhausted still,’

 

‘Why is everyone whispering?’ Lance asked, cocking an eyebrow. It wasn’t like it would wake Keith even if they screaming blue murder. Shiro just glared at him tiredly.

 

‘I’ll help clear up,’ Allura smiled, choosing to ignore Lance as she switched off the tv and closed Keith’s laptop. Within minutes the flat was once again presentably clean, and Hunk, Pidge and Allura let themselves out with a quiet wave. Lance still hadn’t moved from where he sat with Keith in his side. 

 

‘Well, I guess I should get going too,’ Shiro said, stretching as he walked back out from the kitchenette. Lance glanced up at him, frowning.

 

‘Aren’t you staying here?’ he asked, gesturing to the room at large. Shiro shook his head.

 

‘Not tonight. I’ll find a hotel or something,’

 

‘I’m pretty sure Keith wouldn’t mind - I’ll wake him up so you can take the sofa,’ he had been about to shake Keith’s shoulder when he felt a hand on his arm.

 

‘Don’t do that,’ Shiro instructed, but his voice was soft. Lance sunk back into the sofa, staring at him. ‘I.. think he’s still pissed at me for what I suggested earlier.. I think he could do with a while of _not_ seeing my face..’

 

‘What you suggested earlier?’

 

‘Leaving this college,’

 

Ah. That. Lance had completely forgotten it, and suddenly resented his own curiosity for making him push the matter. He couldn’t image Keith leaving. In a way it seemed strange to him - it had only been a month since he had met Keith, after all - but having him around had become a part of his everyday norm. If that norm were to be broken permanently.. Lance didn’t even want to think about. 

 

‘Lance,’ Shiro said, shaking him from his reverie. Looking up, Lance caught an expression he couldn’t identify on Shiro’s face. It was another moment before Shiro finally continued. ‘Thank you. For being there for Keith. It really means a lot,’

 

‘What do you mean?’

 

Shiro frowned, his hand clenching by his side. ‘I’m sorry?’

 

‘What do you mean ‘being there for him’? I’ve not done anything,’

 

‘Do you really think that?’ He asked, voice shocked. Lance nodded. ‘Lance.. you’ve done so much for him. You didn’t see what he was like before he met you.. Before-‘ he coughed, shifting his weight on his feet. ‘-before he went deaf, Keith was like a tornado. He had so much energy, so much life, and if I’m honest, he was impossible to keep up with. He didn’t have many friends, granted, but that never bothered him. He was just.. _always_ doing something, _always_ working towards something. And he got into a lot of trouble too - he was so outspoken and opinionated, and he never did anything unless his heart told him it was the right choice. Often times that led him down the wrong path, made him clash with people, but he was _true_ to himself. But after.. it was like a switch had been flipped,’ Shiro’s face darkened, remembering. ‘The day he was told, it was like the light went out in his eyes - he shut himself away, refused to leave his room, to talk.. for a while he wouldn’t even eat. I thought it would get better with time, the more he adjusted, and yeah, after the first year he got back to himself a bit.. but only on the surface. He still wasn’t.. Keith..’ he cast his eyes over Keith’s sleeping figure, face soft but forlorn and nostalgic. ‘It was like he had lost the fire that drove him, pushed him to speak his mind and argue his point. He stopped clashing with people and just let himself sit on the side lines not engaging at all. _You_ changed that,’

 

For the longest time all Lance could do was stare up at Shiro, face bemused and stricken. Once he did speak, it was as though through a lens, as though he weren’t quite in the room. 

 

‘I didn’t do any of that, Shiro.. all I did was talk to him,’

 

Shiro laughed softly, reaching out his metal hand to pat Lance affectionately on the head. ‘Maybe you’re too young to see it, but you really did change him. I’m not saying it was purposeful - I don’t think that at all. But you just have this.. energy.. to you, Lance. A different one to Keith, but just as potent. You’re.. _exuberant._ It’s the only word for it. You just exude life,’

 

It was Lance’s turn to laugh. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Shiro,’ he grinned, turning to smile fondly at Keith’s still heavily sleeping face. ‘Keith’s the one who did so much for me,’ Shiro tilted his head, not following. ‘Before I met Keith, I was _so_ self confident, just.. _man!_ It was like no one else mattered, you know? Like.. if I didn’t gel with someone, cool - I didn’t care. If someone was a little prickly, or I thought they’d take work to get to know, awesome - good luck to you, but not my problem, I’ll walk the other way. I never _tried_ with anyone, not once. Then along comes Keith, who I can’t even have a conversation with ‘cause we basically speak different languages, but for some reason.. I _wanted_ to talk to him. To get to know him, you know? And I had to try. _Hard._ I mean, holy quiznak is learning sign language tough! But here I am, learning it, all so I can talk to this stupid, mulleted emo,’ he looked back up at Shiro, pausing abruptly at the look he found there. Had he seen it on someone’s face a month before, he wouldn’t even have tried to identify it, but then, sat on that couch with Keith pressed warmly into his side, he knew it instantly. Love. It was Shiro’s love for Keith, and Lance only knew it because he now felt it too. He blushed, aware of the pounding in his chest. 

 

‘Well then,’ Shiro grinned. ‘I guess you’ve done a lot for each other,’ he looked towards the door. ‘I should be off - get him to bed, okay?’ Lance just nodded, watching Shiro’s back retreat out into the hall beyond. 

 

After a moment, he turned to Keith, shaking his shoulder softly. ‘Keith, buddy, wake up,’ he said arbitrarily, smirking as Keith’s eyes scrunched against the intrusion. 

 

‘Shiro..?’ he asked, blinking against the low evening light. Lance shook his head, signing.

 

_Nope, just me - everyone left when they saw you’d fallen asleep._

 

‘I fell asleep?’ Keith sputtered, aghast. He sat upright a little too quickly and winced against his ribs. ‘When was that?’

 

_About.. forty minutes ago now? We didn’t want to wake you, so everyone just tidied up and left._

 

‘Damn.. sorry,’ Keith rubbed his eyes, abandoning himself to a long yawn. Lance’s cheeks flushed with heat as Keith’s face fell into a sleepy pout. ‘You should probably head off too,’

 

_Nah.. I’ll stay at least until you’re all tucked up in bed._ He grinned, enjoying the indignant glare Keith gave him. 

 

‘For quiznak’s sake Lance, I’m not a kid. I’m perfectly capable of getting into bed myself,’

 

_Fine, then think of this as something for me then._

 

Grumbling, Keith gave in and tried to stand, but flopped back into Lance’s arms as his knees shook. Apparently, his legs had also fallen asleep. Huffing, he was forced to let Lance help him up and steady him towards his bedroom. Once they were there, Lance stood in the doorway with his back turned while Keith changed, only turning back around once he felt Keith’s finger poke him in the shoulder blade. 

 

_‘You know I’m not the one who’s deaf, right?’_ he asked, glaring. _‘Don’t poke me! You scared the shit outta me - talk, you shit,’_

 

_Tired. Couldn’t be bothered._ Keith signed, his movements flippant and lazy as he crawled up onto his mattress, nudging his way over to his pillow. He slid himself beneath the covers and half buried his face in the cushion, eyes blinking back sleep. 

 

_Man, what a lazy ass.._ but he smiled all the same, watching Keith wriggle until he found a comfortable position that didn’t hurt. _Well, I’m off -_

 

‘Lance..’ Keith interrupted, silent for a moment as he pulled his hands from below the covers. _Don’t leave._

 

‘Huh?’ was all Lance could say. He caught the slight blush spreading across Keith’s cheeks and blinked hard, mind racing to catch up. Had he missed some kind of cue or something? 

 

_I.. well, I don’t really feel like being alone right now. I’d.. like it if you stayed. At least for a bit._

 

He had never seen Keith look so small, so unsure. Swallowing around the lump that had developed in his throat, he took a tentative step forwards, testing his resolve. When Keith patted the mattress behind himself, eyes downcast, Lance kicked himself into gear and slid into the bed beside him, hands flattening out the quilt around his torso. 

 

His heart hammered like it was trying to escape out his ribs. He couldn’t quite believe that he was there - in Keith’s bed, with Keith snuggling into his chest, black hair tickling his chin. He could feel the heat radiating out from Keith’s back, the too-fast thrum of Keith’s own heartbeat, the nervous tremor in his shoulders. And Keith could feel all of that coming from him too, every ounce of nervous energy, of unspoken, unaware desires stirring between them. He gulped, eyes wide. 

 

‘Dude..’ Keith hissed after a moment, voice shaking softly around the word. ‘can you just lie down already? I wanna sleep,’

 

Complying, Lance slithered down the mattress, fidgeting relentlessly as he tried to find a way of lying that didn’t involve bodily contact. Until Keith turned to face him, hands wrapping around his. Keith’s eyes blinked up at him, his face soft and pink in the bunt umber glow seeping through the curtains. His fingers shook, palms sweating gently as he pulled Lance’s arms around himself. 

 

He breathed into Lance’s chest, closing his eyes against the sting of his brightness. ‘This is.. like this is good,’ he sighed, letting his hands wrap against the tense walls of Lance’s sides, fingers softening into the fabric, melding with it. Lance’s chin dropped to burrow itself in Keith’s soft hair. 

 

His own eyes fluttered closed and his heart steadied out into a straight, blushing rhythm, dancing like spring in his rib cage. He had never been so close to another human being before. In all of his twenty two years, he had never felt so close, even when physically it came nowhere near. ‘Yeah..’ he breathed, revelling in the way Keith’s fingers tightened at Lance’s thrumming chest. ‘Yeah, I guess this ain’t so bad..’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooo what about that Klance moment, eh?! Whodathunkit?! I wonder how that'll work out when they wake up...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations with the police lead to startling new evidence and even more startling realisations for both Lance and Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter! In all honesty, I had planned to have this chapter uploaded sooner, but I went and got hella sick earlier this week. Must have been all of the sicfics I keep reading rubbing off on me.. Karma or something, I guess. 
> 
> Anyway, I finally got around to writing more today, and yoo hoo hellooo here are the results! This one was pretty darn fun to write - I got to experiment with some truly grumpy Keith, and damn I just love his little emo mood swings SO much. And Langst may make a lovely little appearance too. Can't resist the Langst. 
> 
> As always, thank you SO SO SO much to everyone who's read this far and left kudos and comments! I cannot thank you all enough! It means the WORLD to me - honestly, I tear up every time I see the hit count go up. It's starting to get a little ridiculous (although please don't stop. I love it). Y'all are too good to me (may have tried to channel Texan Keith there.. )

 

 

 

 

Lance was late. Internally cursing himself, he pushed open the doors to the art building, breath panting in clouds as he shot up the stairs two at a time. He had woken slowly a little over an hour before, pleasantly comfortable and wanting to stay in the warm embrace of the sheets indefinitely. Until he had noticed that the embrace he was experiencing wasn’t just a result of the bedding, but rather from the arms of a still sleeping Keith wrapped tightly around his upper body. At first his brain had been so fogged and confused that he had assumed he was dreaming, but when Keith had snuggled his nose further into Lance’s chest, the realisation that it was in fact real had hit him like a freight train. 

 

Eyes popping and face blushing a wicked red, he had squeaked a sound of alarm and shot from the bed like a cannon, crashing into the wall with a heavy thud of elbows on plaster. Memories of the night before had flooded his mind, filling his vision with images of Keith’s face next to his, arms and legs entwining with sleep, bird-like flutterings of his heart racing at the proximity. He had fallen asleep in Keith’s bed. With Keith wrapped around him like a glove. 

 

He hadn’t meant for it to happen, and without waking Keith from his much needed slumber, he had slunk from the apartment as fast as his shaking legs could carry him. It hadn’t been until he had gotten home that he had checked his emails and seen a notice that there was to be a meeting with the police in the studio to talk about Keith’s attack. 

 

Diving through the door to the studio space, Lance barrelled into the main area, drawing stares of disapproval from the thirty or so students already gathered there. He looked around himself at the destruction still evident on the walls and floor and winced, still unable to reconcile the image of Keith passed out in his arms with the ones of him sleeping soundly by Lance’s side. He shook his head, turning to face the officers standing stoically before the gathering. 

 

‘Sorry I’m late,’ he huffed, rubbing a hand across his sweating forehead. ‘I overslept,’

 

‘Well, it’s nice of you to join us, Mr. McClain,’ his tutor commented, casting him a glare from the corner of her eye. She shuffled slightly to the side as an officer in a suit stepped forwards. 

 

‘If everyone’s here now, we’ll start,’ he said, coughing as he flicked through a small notepad in his hands. ‘My name is Inspector Delile, and I’ve been assigned the investigation into the attack that occurred here two days ago,’ he paused, watching the silent faces of shock around him. News of an attack in the studio had spread like wildfire over the intervening days, but little was still known and all eyes rested firmly on Delile. ‘On Tuesday afternoon, one of your classmates was assaulted in this studio by three unknown assailants. Obviously it would have been difficult to gain access to the building as key cards are required at all points of entry - key cards, I have been made aware, that are specific for this building. As such, we are being forced to investigate the possibility that those assailants had inside help. Now -‘ he started, reacting to the expressions of shock and indignation spreading quickly among the group. ‘- we aren’t just looking at everyone here, but those in the other studio spaces as well. Other officers have been dispatched to question the other courses, but as the lead investigator, I have been assigned this one - it is undeniable that the likelihood of an accomplice being amongst this group is high,’

 

Furtive glances at the other students passed amongst the gathering, suspicion running wild until one rather small girl took a step forwards and raised her hand. Coughing, she opened her mouth. ‘Um.. who was it that was attacked?’ 

 

Delile glanced down at his notepad. ‘A Mr. Keith Kogane,’

 

More outcries raised in the air, a loud titter breaking the previously unbearable silence. 

 

‘If everyone could please quiet down,’ Delile instructed, raising his hand. ‘As I’m sure all of you are aware, Mr. Kogane is deaf - something that makes this case far more serious. Were this an attack on a fully abled person, then it would be assumed there was some kind of previous dispute. However, as that was not the case, we are presuming that it was an attack based on prejudice - a hate crime, if you will. To top it off - and I only say this in order to press upon you all the seriousness of this crime - Mr. Kogane’s assailants turned out the lights before attacking him. I want you all to imagine for a moment what that would have been like. To be unable to hear a single sound, and then have your sight taken as well before being attacked by multiple people. It was organised, it was planned, and it was undoubtably vicious,’

 

‘Hey!’ Lance yelled, pushing his way to the front of the group, a look like a storm clouding his face. ‘You shouldn’t be telling everyone that! Who the hell gave you permission to tell everyone what they did to him?!’

 

‘His guardian -‘ again, Delile looked at his notepad. ‘- a Mr. Takashi Shirogane. Who exactly are you, if I may ask?’

 

‘Lance McClain,’ he snapped, squaring his chest. ‘I’m the one who found Keith - I’m his _friend_ ,’

 

‘Ah.. Mr. McClain - it’s nice to finally be able to put a face to the name. Mr. Shirogane had mentioned you as the one who Mr. Kogane contacted for help. If you would consent to wait a while, one of these officers -‘ he gestured to the men standing behind him. ‘- have a few questions for you regarding the incident. We also have questions for.. Miss April Hewer,’ he looked expectantly around the faces before him, eyes widening in acknowledgement as April tentatively stuck up her hand. ‘Thank you - I’m aware you were working with Mr. Kogane that day?’ she nodded.

 

‘Y-yeah, but.. I mean, I don’t know anything about this..’

 

‘Bullshit!’ Lance snapped, pushing towards her. He was unduly held back by a large pair of hands belonging to one of the officers. ‘You and Keith were the only ones in here, then you suddenly up and leave for fucking ages! It’s a bit of a coincidence that he just _happened_ to get attacked as soon as you left the goddamned quiznaking studio!’ 

 

‘That is _enough,_ McClain!’ his tutor screamed, face like thunder. Delile held up his hand, requesting order. Once he had it, he continued speaking.

 

‘I understand, Mr. McClain, that as Mr. Kogane’s close friend this is a very sensitive subject for you, but throwing around accusations will get you nowhere. If Miss Hewer here was involved then we will find that out on our own. But if she wasn’t, then you are being incredibly unfair, don’t you think?’

 

Lance couldn’t help but shrink back into himself. Delile was right, after all. If April was innocent then he had just thrown her to the wolves for nothing. ‘Sorry,’ he hissed, bowing his head darkly. 

 

Nodding, Delile tucked his notepad into the breast pocket of his jacket. ‘Well then, before we continue - if anyone knows anything about what happened, or has any questions, now is the time to speak up. But bare in mind - if you do know what happened, or know who was involved and do not tell us of your own volition, _we will find out._ And when we do, the punishment will be far more severe,’

 

For a moment all was silent, before with a terrified shake, a tall boy with dark brown hair pushed his hand into the air. A low murmur took over the crowd and the boy’s cheeks reddened, his eyes darting madly from Lance to Delile. 

 

‘Um.. I- I don’t know anything about it,’ he clarified quickly, disappointing those who had hoped to witness the arrest. ‘but.. well, I was wanting to ask - how is Keith? I mean.. I don’t know him well or anything, but he’s a nice guy, and he doesn’t deserve..’ he gestured around himself to the destruction painted across the room. ‘… _this._ Is he alright?’

 

Delile looked to Lance, momentarily taking him by surprise. ‘Mr. McClain? Perhaps you can answer that one?’ Clearing his throat, he looked back at the boy who had asked the question, remembering that his name was Dylan.

 

‘Keith’s beat the fuck up,’ he glowered, folding his arms over his chest. If the attackers or their accomplice really were a part of the group, he wanted them to understand just how badly they had messed up, just how much harm they had caused. ‘He had to spend the night in the hospital. I mean.. his face is fucking black and blue! - Not that I can _see_ black and blue, but that’s what people say bruises look like. But..’ his face softened considerably, remembering the way Keith had looked sleeping tucked into his chest. ‘..he’ll be fine. He’s tough - and you got it wrong about him being _nice.._ He’s a goddamned pain in the ass,’

 

A quiet laugh broke the tension, drawing a wry smile from Lance’s lips. 

 

‘So he’s alright?’ Dylan reiterated, nodding his head slightly as he asked Lance for confirmation. Lance hesitated for a moment before ducking his head yes. 

 

‘Yeah.. give him a couple days and he’ll be back on his feet annoying the shit outta me again.. although he annoyed the shit outta me _yesterday_ , too, so…’

 

‘Alright, thank you, Mr. McClain,’ Delile interrupted, stepping to the side. ‘if you would follow my colleague here, he’ll ask you some questions. Miss Hewer, you’ll be questioned by me,’

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Keith was glowering. Badly. He knew he was, and he knew it was unfair on the police officer and college official sat opposite him, but he still couldn’t make himself stop. He was in the worst mood he had been in since finding out that National Geographic had made a ‘mockumentary’ about mermaids, ridiculing everyone who truly believed in them - Keith included. 

 

His mood stemmed entirely from the fact that when he had woken up late that morning, he had been alone. His bed, previously having contained both himself and a ridiculously annoying Cuban had been empty. 

 

Lance had jilted him. 

 

Once again remembering the humiliation of realising that Lance had run away after waking up and not even thought to text him, Keith’s face fell into a thunderous pout, and he winced slightly as he caught sight of the startled sheen appearing in the officer’s eyes. He turned his head away, arms folding hard across his chest. 

 

… _you paying attention, Keith?_  

 

His eyes snapped up, startled, focusing in on his interpreter’s hands. They were sitting in Keith’s living room, Shiro to his left, his interpreter to his right, the officer and college official perched on the coffee table across from the sofa. 

 

Nodding, he sighed, reluctantly unfolding his arms. 

 

_Yeah, sorry, Joe.._ he signed, throwing him a small apologetic look. Joseph smiled faintly, clearly sympathetic. 

 

_Officer Mormont asked you if you remember anything more from Tuesday?_

 

Keith thought about it and shook his head. 

 

_‘I don’t,’_ Joseph said, speaking for Keith as he signed his answer. _‘honestly, I know that’s not helpful or anything, but really it was so dark there wasn’t much to see. It’s like I told the officer at the hospital - I was in the modelling room, working on my laptop waiting for April to get back, when the lights went out and I went to the door to check outside. I called out, thinking maybe someone had turned them off not knowing I was still there, and someone threw something across the floor. I panicked, tried to find the light switch, and someone grabbed me from behind. After that, it was all just kind of a rush - it all happened so fast, I couldn’t really tell you what happened. I hit my head, I know that -‘_ Keith rubbed the back of his head ruefully, feeling the stitches stand out prominent against his skin. _‘- but not really a lot else,’_ He looked at the officer, frowning, and the man gave him a small smile of encouragement before speaking.

 

_He says that’s good._ Joseph interpreted, drawing Keith’s attention back with a small wave. _He says it’s not a problem that you don’t remember more, so don’t worry about it. The college official - he says his name is Gordon Fisher - wants you to know that they’re doing everything they can to find who did it and that they’ll be punished severely._

 

Keith nodded, glancing at Shiro. All he did was reach out a hand to pat Keith on the shoulder, visibly uncomfortable at the entire process. 

 

_Officer Mormont asks why you were in the modelling room rather than your space?_

 

He couldn’t help but laugh wanly, raising a hand to his cheek as it ached. 

 

_‘Well, surprisingly enough, I was modelling,’_ he signed, letting Joseph’s voice speak his words. _‘April asked me if she could paint me for her project - she wanted to work from life, so I was sitting for her. It’s not weird for artists to model for each other.. you know, it can be hard to find people comfortable enough to do it, and artists get it, I think. We’re all pretty cool about it,’_

 

_And do you think April could have been involved?_

 

Keith shook his head, feeling a vibration run up his throat. He wasn’t sure what kind of sound it had made, but assumed it was a strange one at the look on Mormont’s face. He grimaced, faintly uncomfortable. _‘Not a chance - she has nothing against me. Yeah, we’re not close, but she’s always been nice, and she tries hard to like, talk to me and stuff. I know it can be difficult - I’m not great at lip reading, and the college didn’t think I needed a permanent interpreter -‘_ he glared at Fisher pointedly, enjoying the awkward look it drew from him. _‘- so it’s a pretty big deal that she still tries, you know?’_

 

_Can you think of anyone else who might want to hurt you? Or who might hold a grudge? That was Officer Mormont again._ Joseph clarified as Keith gave him a look of confusion. Once again Keith shook his head, before startling in embarrassment. 

 

_‘Ah-…’_ He paused, turning to look sheepishly at Shiro, who eyed him questioningly. _‘So, uh, Lance and I were thinking it might have been the same guys from the first night I was here..’_

 

_What?!_ Shiro signed, letting his face speak for his emotional state. He looked furious. _Why on earth didn’t you tell me that sooner, Keith?! That’s a pretty big detail!_ Keith shrugged noncommittally. 

 

_‘I dunno.. it just didn’t come up. I’ve been a little.. distracted lately,’_

 

_Yeah, with LANCE._

 

A tap on Keith’s shoulder drew his attention back to Joseph, who was watching Mormont from the corner of his eye. _Officer Mormont asks if you can stay on topic, please. He says that you need to take this seriously as it’s a major crime that needs to be resolved as quickly as possible._

 

_‘What, you think I don’t know that?’_ Keith ignored the outraged look he could feel emanating from Shiro. _‘I got attacked, I had the shit beat out of me. I know plenty well just how serious this is, unless you think I have a bruised up face and ribs for fun? And don’t forget the three inch hole in the back of my head - that one was a BLAST,’_

 

Shiro grabbed his face, turning it towards him. _Don’t get smart, Keith. They’re just trying to help._ He signed, and Keith saw him sigh. He shook his head, fed up. It was all a waste of time as far as he was concerned - they weren’t asking anything different from when he had gone over it in the hospital. And aside from the theory that it had been the same guys both times, he didn’t have any new information. They might as well have not bothered turning up. 

 

_The officer’s asking now whether or not you want to prosecute the college?_ Joseph signed, startling him. He blinked, not following. 

 

_‘Prosecute.. the college? What for? They didn’t do anything wrong..’_ He tilted his head, considering Fisher. There was an undeniable look of relief on his face. _‘I mean, yeah, it’s not the best for, you know, helping me deal with being deaf, but to be honest, where’s gonna be? I’d rather be here than somewhere else, and if I prosecute, I can’t stay. There’s nothing to prosecute for,’_

 

_Keith._ Shiro signed, grabbing Keith by the arm. _We’ve talked about this - you’re not staying anyway._

 

_‘Yes, I am, Shiro,’_ he replied, eyes hardening as he stared him down. He would not let Shiro dictate his life, even if it was out of concern. He was happy there, and nothing was going to change that, not even another attack. He would rather face an attack every day than leave..-

 

Than leave what? The college? He wasn’t that particularly fond of the place, so that couldn’t be it. Sure, he liked hanging around with Allura, Hunk and Pidge, but it wasn’t like he would lose all contact with them if he upped and left. So what was it? What was so important to him that he couldn’t bare to let it go? The answer hit him like a wave and he breathed sharply.

 

Lance. It was Lance. 

 

Keith felt a bolt of white hot anger run up his spine, muddling his brain. The fucker had jilted him and he was still so hung up on spending even another minute in his presence. Glowering again, he huffed and turned away from Shiro.

 

_Officer Mormont says that he’s going to leave the meeting here for today._ Joseph signed after a moment, pulling Keith’s reluctant eyes towards him. _He says thank you for your cooperation, and that he’ll update you as soon as he finds anything out about your attackers._ Keith just nodded, watching as Mormont and Fisher got up to leave. Once the door had closed behind them it was still for a moment, before Joseph too stood up. _I’ll leave you guys be._ He said, smiling between Keith and Shiro. _It looks like you have a lot to talk about. I’ll let myself out - message me when you’re feeling well enough to start going to lectures again. And Keith?_ He gave him a pointed look, eyebrow raising as Keith flinched slightly. _Go and talk to Lance - I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why he left this morning._

 

‘Wh-! How the hell do you know about that?!’ Keith sputtered, face exploding in a field of red. Joseph looked like he laughed. 

 

_I’m sorry, I saw you signing to Shiro about it when I got here. I shouldn’t pry, but from what I’ve seen of Lance, he wouldn’t just leave without a reason. I’m sure he’ll explain everything if you just talk to him._

 

Keith invariably spent the rest of the day sulking, face buried in the cushions on his sofa. 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

‘Thank you very much for your time, Mr. McClain,’ Inspector Delile said as he opened the door to the modelling room they had used to interview people. Lance nodded, casting one last look back inside before stepping out into the main studio. It had been tough being back in there with the image of Keith lying in his arms, but he figured it was like ripping off a band-aid: face it quickly, so the experience is less painful in the long run. 

 

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to tell you any more about it?’ he asked, stretching his back out. Delile shook his head.

 

‘You told me.. more than enough,’ he gave a tight smile. Lance had insisted on replaying the events of both of Keith’s attacks five times apiece. ‘if we have any more questions, we’ll contact you,’

 

‘Okey dokey,’ Lance grinned, watching as Delile walked to one of his subordinates, notepad once again in hand. He pulled out his phone, habitually checking the screen for texts - he couldn’t deny that he had been hoping all day for Keith to text him, but he wasn’t entirely surprised to see it still blank. He _had_ abandoned him, after all. 

 

While Lance had been being questioned, the other students in the studio had begun the arduous clean up process, going through all of their work, determining what was salvageable and what was beyond repair. He knew he was lucky in that sense - his and Keith’s space had been miraculously spared - but he still couldn’t stop the dense feeling of pain watching his classmates’ miserable faces. So much time and effort had gone into their work, and most of it had been destroyed in the space of an hour. He wondered if it was partly his fault - if he had gone into the studio with Keith that day like he had asked, there would have been two against three and Lance could have helped him overpower them. They might not even have attacked at all. And even if Lance _hadn’t_ gone in, if only he’d picked up the phone sooner, on Keith’s first ring it might not have..

 

He shook his head. He was travelling down a dangerous path of self pity and doubt. It wouldn’t do him any good. Not that the thought did anything to lessen the swell within his chest, but it was worth a shot at least. 

 

Deciding to go and see Allura - _not,_ he reminded himself, to ask her for help in explaining why he had run from Keith’s bed that morning - he stuffed his phone back in his pocket and prepared to leave when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, Lance came face to face with April. A sharp chill of anger slithered down his back. 

 

‘What the hell do _you_ want?’ he snapped, snatching his arm back from her grasp. She let it go willingly, but he caught how her fingers seemed to grasp the air for a moment and her mouth opened in shock. 

 

‘I..’ she started, clearly unsure. ‘I just wanted to apologise!’

 

‘Oh, so you’re finally admitting you had something to do with it, then?’

 

‘No! No, not at all!’ she waved her hands frantically around her head, eyes wide and gleaming with tears unspilled. A small part of Lance felt sorry for her, until he realised it was only because he hated to see girls cry. ‘I didn’t know a thing about it, I swear! But.. well, I think part of it _might_ have been my fault..’

 

‘What?!’ Lance’s hands grabbed onto her shoulders, shaking her hard as all concern for her gender flew out the window. April shrunk back in fear, but didn’t run, and waved off her friends who had begun to make their way over. ‘What the hell do you mean?!’

 

‘Lance, please!’ she begged, placing her palm over the back of his hand. He couldn’t miss the way it shook, and he thought better of himself, lessening the pressure he was applying onto her arms. ‘I.. I think my boyfriend might have been the one who set it all up,’ she paused, but continued when Lance just looked at her pointedly. ‘I only met him about a month ago - just after the start of the year. We were introduced through a couple of friend, and well.. he didn’t exactly seem interested at first -‘

 

‘How the hell is your love life relevant to Keith?’ Lance glared, but April just shook her head. 

 

‘It is, I promise - just bare with me, okay?’ she asked, and when Lance nodded in assent, she carried on. ‘He didn’t seem interested until one day three weeks ago when we were walking through campus with a couple of other friends - and we ran into Keith. He stopped, and I chatted with him a little, and after he left, Kyle, my boyfriend - well, he wasn’t at the time, but you get the idea - asked how I knew him. I explained that we share a studio, and he’s deaf and stuff, and Kyle.. I dunno.. he got really interested in him. I asked why, but he just said he wanted to know more about me, and so I let it slide, even though I found it a little weird.. After that, Kyle started messaging me and stuff, and after a couple days we got together. I remember thinking it was strange, even at the time, ‘cause he had been so disinterested in me until he met Keith, but.. well I really wanted to like him, so, you know?’ 

 

Lance nodded - he understood completely. There had been plenty of times he had overlooked important details purely because he had wanted things to work out with someone so badly. ‘What happened next?’ he asked.

 

April took a breath. ‘He started talking about Keith a lot - and I mean _a lot._ He said it was just ‘cause Keith’s the only person from my course he’d met and he was interested, but.. I dunno.. it felt kinda wrong, you know? I even wondered for a while if Kyle _liked_ Keith, if you get me, but all his friends said how into me he was. But the bit that made me start thinking Kyle might have been involved in the attack, was the fact that it was Kyle who suggested I paint Keith. I told you guys that it was my painting tutor who wanted me to try working from life, but it wasn’t - Kyle had suggested it, but asked that I not tell anyone. So anyway, he kinda planned it all out for me, made all these plans with me over the last few days so that the only time I had to paint Keith was Tuesday when the studio’s always dead ‘cause of gen ed classes and shit. But then he texted me half way through the sitting saying he desperately needed me to do him a favour.. why go to all that trouble to organise the sitting, if he was just gonna drag me away half way through? It’s just.. a little too much of a coincidence, you know?’ 

 

‘But why would your boyfriend have it out for Keith?’ Lance asked, confused. It was true what April was saying about it seeming too much of a coincidence to ignore, but at the same time it was a little far fetched to imagine that Kyle had formed such a hatred for Keith on one meeting alone. 

 

‘Well.. I ended up overhearing a part of his friends’ conversation about a week ago - I didn’t think much of it until all this happened ‘cause it could have been about anyone, but now I think it was about Keith. Three of Kyle’s friends were talking about some guy they’d had trouble with on the first night of the semester - some guy who’d walked into them in an alley and just ignored it, and didn’t stop when they called after him. They mentioned that they’d found out the guy was deaf, and wanted to get back at him ‘cause this guy’s friend had hurt one of them or something..’

 

Oh. Lance’s eyes went wide. 

 

‘Do you know their names?!’ He demanded, once again grabbing April harshly by the shoulders. This time she didn’t shrink back, but still shook her head. 

 

‘I-I’m sorry, no - Kyle never really introduced me to them, and he always seemed to want to keep me kinda separate, you know?’

 

‘Shit.. okay, well did you at least tell the police about it?’

 

‘Yeah, I told them everything I just told you - they’re gonna question Kyle later today,’ a small whimper escaped her lips and Lance remembered that it was April’s boyfriend they were talking about. He might have used her simply to get to Keith, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t cared about him. He let go of her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug, tightening his arms at the surprised yelp she let loose. 

 

‘What a shitbag,’ he hissed, tucking his face into her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry he used you, April, and.. and I’m sorry I blamed you, too,’

 

Relaxing, April wrapped her own arms around Lance’s torso, sniffling. ’T-thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I felt so bad about it.. I just kept thinking ‘what if I’d seen something sooner’? You know?’

 

‘Yeah.. I keep thinking the same,’ he let her go, smiling down into her face as softly as he could while so much rage still seethed within him. ‘You know, Keith called me four times before I picked up.. I keep thinking what if I’d picked up sooner - would he have been less scared? Would the concussion have been less bad? And then what if I’d just gone into the studio with him in the first place? He wouldn’t have -‘

 

April put her hand over his mouth, startling him. ‘You can’t think like that, Lance. Keith’s a grown ass man, you can’t baby him,’ letting go, she pulled on her sleeves nervously. ‘Could.. could I talk to him, maybe? I wanna explain everything myself, before he hears it - sees it - from the police..’

 

‘Ahh…’ Lance felt his face redden. Scratching the back of his neck, he compulsively looked away from her, catching her raised eyebrow from the corner of his eye. ‘I don’t think Keith’s really talking to me right now..’ He mumbled, jumping slightly at April’s shocked yell.

 

‘Why not?! You two are so close,’

 

‘I uh.. I might have ran away from him this morning.. after, uhh.. well I mean we - oh god, no! Nothing happened, nothing happened at all!’ he shook his hands desperately, watching as April’s face contorted in embarrassment. ‘All we did was fall asleep, I swear! But.. oh man.. when I woke up this morning, yeah.. I kinda ran away without saying anything..’

 

‘Oh my god, Lance..’ April rubbed her face with her palm. ‘You like him, right? Don’t deny it - literally everyone knows, you tool. It’s so fucking obvious a toddler could work it out. I can’t believe you’d just leave without telling him! _Especially_ after he was attacked!’

 

Lance ducked his head in shame. When April said it like that, it really was quite the dick move. 

 

‘I.. I guess I might, just a tiny little bit - and I mean _very_ small, so small you can hardly even tell - like him.. as a frien- oh fuck it, who am I kidding?!’ He threw his hands in the air, internally berating himself. ‘I like him, okay?! God-fucking-quiznaking-damnit, I like him!’ He knew his face was a colour comparable to a beet, and his mouth was oriented in the most splendid of pouts, but if he was honest, he really didn’t care. He liked Keith Kogane, and no one was going to interfere with his stupid, self-pitying realisation. 

 

‘Then you might have _just_ a little bit of work ahead of you, Lance,’ April chuckled, beginning to turn away from him. ‘I think he’s gonna be difficult to win back over after you jilted him like that,’

 

In Lance’s heart of hearts, he knew she was right, and he hated her for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooohhh April knows these boys so well! At least someone's got her head on straight ;)
> 
> Come scream with me about Klance on Tumblr! (I mean it.. please do.. I'm lonely) https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance teaches Keith something unexpected, and Keith figures out how to weaponise household objects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm very much aware that this chapter is a little bit late - I'm so sorry for the wait! Really, I don't have much of an excuse other than that my stupid mental state has not been particularly fantastic this last week. Things have been a little rough, but I'm working on it, and hopefully I'll get my shit together and manage to keep up with more regular updates from now on. 
> 
> If any of you follow my writing, you might have seen that I posted a short one shot the other day - a story called 'These People are my Home' - and while I know it's probably not great to advertise my own work, it'd really mean the world if you guys would go over and read it, maybe? I wrote it from Pidge's point of view, about coming out as gender-neutral, and it's written from my own experience of realising - and telling my friends - that I'm gender-fluid. Pretty pretty please with a cherry and all that jazz, would you go and maybe read it? This writer could do with a little confidence boost right now. http://archiveofourown.org/works/10024763 
> 
> Anywhoo ~ story time! I really hope you all enjoy this chapter - it was probably my favourite to write, whilst also being the hardest so far. Also, there's a song in it, and I'm gonna link it in the notes at the bottom if y'all wanna listen to it. Seriously, listen to it and just try and imagine Keith singing it. It's so quiznaking beautiful

 

**Lance:** Hey, Keith, I’m coming over, so get dressed or something. And I want popcorn - you got any?

**Lance:** Yooo… Keith, buddy, you there?

**Lance:** Hello?? Earth to space cadet Keith, this is a request for attention GIVE IT TO ME. 

 

Lance cursed harshly into the early October wind. He had left the studio after talking with April, and was making his way over to Keith’s apartment. His great plan had been to simply pretend that nothing had happened, and broach the subject once he was there and Keith couldn’t run away. However, it appeared that his genius levels of strategising had uncharacteristically let him down - Keith was ignoring him. 

 

Never without his phone, Keith usually took a maximum of five minutes to reply to a text, but Lance had been waiting for over twenty. And it didn’t look as though he was going to get a response any time within the next hour.

 

Growling irritably, Lance stomped his foot against the curb, startling an elderly woman walking the opposite way. He felt bad for scaring her, but didn’t have the time or brain power to apologise - he had to figure out a way to get through to Keith.

 

It wasn’t even like he had done anything particularly bad. Yes, he had left Keith’s apartment after spending the night without saying anything, and yes he had failed to text Keith even once throughout the day explaining why, but surely that wasn’t worth getting the cold shoulder over? Couldn’t Keith just figure that Lance had been busy? 

 

He sighed pathetically, slumping his shoulders. He knew he was just making up excuses for himself. If it had been the opposite way he would have been furious and hurt, and would probably have ignored Keith too. He clenched his fists and resolved to try again.

 

**Lance:** Oh my god! So ignore me then, Mullet-Head, see if I care! CAUSE I DON’T! ‘snot like I want attention from a stupid alien-freak like you, anyway.

 

He pouted, frowning at the blatant lie. Even Keith with his primary school level knowledge of human interaction would be able to see through it in a heartbeat. He was about to give up and go back home when he felt his phone buzz, the distinctive ring echoing in the near-empty street. A bolt of excited anxiety running through him, he pulled it to his face, grin dying instantly as he saw the name scrawled across the screen.

 

**Shiro:** Fancy telling me why you jilted my brother this morning? Or should I just skip the trial and go straight to the prosecution?

 

Lance’s face twisted into a scowl equal parts fury and terror. Shiro’s text had told him two things: one; Keith had told Shiro about his cowardly cut and run that morning, and two; Keith was not only ignoring Lance’s texts, but showing them to Shiro as he did so. 

 

‘I can’t believe that quiznaking Mulled-Head!’ he screamed, waving his fists madly. He blushed as a near-by cat squawked in fright and shot up a tree. 

 

**Lance:** Oh, so you’ll text me, but baby bro won’t? Talk about mature, Broganes.. real adult of you.

**Shiro:** Broganes?? What the hell is that? And you cannot talk about mature, Lance - you upped and LEFT him. Without a word. Do you know how upset he’s been?

**Lance:** Yeah, Broganes - Shirogane and Kogane? You’re brothers. _Broganes._ Gettit? 

**Lance:** And don’t talk to me about upset, Shiro! He’s ignoring me! Do you know how upset _I_ am right now?! All I wanna do is crash at his place and watch some shitty documentaries so I can laugh at how stupid he is, okay?!

**Shiro:** …Do you seriously think that’s gonna make me want to help you?

 

**Lance:**..No. Fine, fine whatever, Shiro, be difficult! But seriously, I really do feel bad about this morning. Can you just get him to talk to me so I can explain?

**Shiro:** Maybe try explaining it to me first, so I can decide if you should be allowed to talk to Keith. 

 

Lance didn’t have a chance to reply, as within seconds of getting Shiro’s text, his phone rang with his number. Clicking accept, he held it to his ear.

 

‘Okay, listen here, Shiro, ‘cause it’s totally freaking unfair that Keith’s ignoring me, okay?’ he rushed, not giving Shiro an opportunity to speak. ‘I didn’t mean to just up and leg it this morning, you know? I was in a rush, and Keith was sleeping and I -‘

 

‘Oh my god, Lance, slow down,’ Shiro sighed, cutting him off. Lance felt his face go red at the interruption, but deigned to stay quiet until Shiro had spoken again. ‘Look, I don't care about all of your excuses, okay? If you were in a rush, you would have texted him after you left to explain, but you didn’t - which means, genius, that you _did_ intend to jilt him. Am I right?’

 

Lance grumbled slightly, sticking out his bottom lip. 

 

‘I can’t hear you Lance, you gotta speak up,’

 

‘Fine! Yes, okay, I ‘jilted’ him! _Happy_ now?!’

 

‘What the hell do you think?’

 

‘… Not happy now?’ He could almost sense the deadening stare Shiro was giving him through the phone. ‘Okay, I know I fucked up - like, _really_ fucked up - but it isn’t like I did it on purpose. I.. ugh. I panicked. There, I said it,’

 

‘You panicked?’ Shiro asked, and Lance heard rustling from the other end of the line, as though Shiro were shoving against something. ‘Hold on a second -‘ he said, sounding a little worn, and Lance frowned. He thought for a moment that he could hear Keith’s voice, but couldn’t quite make it out. ‘Sorry - I had to put you on speaker phone so my hands are free,’

 

‘Wha-! Don’t put me on speaker phone, Keith’ll hear m-!’ he stopped dead, realising the stupidity of his statement too late. Shiro chuckled.

 

‘Yeah, the deaf guy’s gonna hear you, Lance. Real smooth,’

 

‘Oh shut up, I’m allowed to make a few mistakes, you know,’

 

‘And that’s two just today. You’re on a roll. Now - you said you panicked? What about?’

 

Lance hesitated. ‘..You’re not gonna translate this to Keith, are you?’

 

‘Nope - if he finds this out, it’s gonna be from you, kiddo,’

 

‘Good. Then.. well, uh, I guess.. it just got super real, you know? Like.. we shared a _bed_.. I know you probably don’t wanna know that about your kid brother - even if you guys aren’t actually related - but we did. He asked to me to stay, and we both fell asleep, and when I woke up he was just.. wrapped around me like some giant koala, and I.. I got scared. I know I shouldn’t have run away, and I _know_ I should have texted him, but it just seemed like such a big deal, so I didn’t.. What was I supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I left you this morning, your sleeping face is crazy cute and I got turned on thinking about the fact I was in your bed with you’? That wasn’t exactly gonna go down great, Shiro,’

 

‘Yeah, no kidding,’ Shiro griped, sounding mildly disgusted. ‘but you could have at least said _something,_ Lance. You really hurt him. This is the first time in four years he’s let someone in, and then you just go and leave him like that. He’s pissed as shit - he’s been shouting about it for hours, and every time he thinks about it he gets all grumpy and just shoves his face in a pillow,’

 

Lance knew he should have found the news alarming, but the mental image of Keith sulking into a cushion was just too cute to ignore. 

 

‘Help me out, Shiro,’ he begged instead, creasing his eyebrows. He heard a sigh from the other end of the line and held his breath.

 

‘Fine,’ Shiro eventually relented, making Lance literally dance with happiness. ‘but I’m not playing middle man, okay? You’re dealing with this yourself. Look, what you’ve gotta know about Keith is that he’s crazy stubborn - once you piss him off, you’ve either gotta wear down his walls and make him get bored of being mad at you, or you’ve gotta wait for him to get over it himself and let him come to you like a wild animal. The second is probably the safest - there’ve been a few times he’s decked me when I’ve tried the first - but it can take days or even weeks, sometimes,’

 

‘So what you’re saying is that I’ve just gotta bug him until he forgives me,’ Lance grinned. He heard Shiro go to say something else - something that sounded distinctly like a disagreement - but he didn’t wait around to find out what it was. Barking out a quick goodbye and thank you, he hung up and spun on the spot, game plan already forming within his brain. It was going to be a good day, he decided. He was going to win Keith over. 

 

And he was going to do it in style. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Lance:** Knock knock.

**Lance:** …You’re supposed to say who’s there.

**Lance:** Keith, buddy, work with me here, I got a great joke to tell you, but you gotta cooperate. 

**Lance:** Okaay.. guess I’ll have to play your part too, huh?

**Lance:** Starting AGAIN.

**Lance:** Knock knock.

**Lance:** *Me as you, Keith* ‘who’s there??’

**Lance:** Me

**Lance:** *Me as you again ‘cause you’re such a massive letdown* ‘‘me’ who??’

**Lance:** Me Lance - I’m at your door, asshole, have been for the last twenty minutes ‘cause you won’t reply to my texts so goddamned open up before I bust in there and start yodelling (You might not be able to hear it, but your neighbours will, and I’m _guessing_ they’re not gonna massively appreciate that).

 

Lance grinned as he finally heard the lock turn, and Keith’s door opened a crack to reveal one immensely pissed off violet eye. 

 

‘What the hell do you want, Lance?’ Keith demanded, deadened stare boring a hole through Lance’s brain. He forced a whimsical, nonchalant smile onto his face all the same, flicking his hand out as he took a step closer to Keith.

 

‘Oh, I just thought I’d come see how the patient is doing,’ he said, slowing his words to make sure Keith could catch them. 

 

‘Wh- _patient??_ Lance, for god’s sake.. you’ve been texting me non stop for hours, do you know how annoying that is? I can’t even put my phone down somewhere else and ignore it ‘cause _I can’t hear it go off.’_

 

‘ _Exactly.’_ Lance chirped, taking yet another step forwards until there was nothing but the door between them. ‘Now let me in,’

 

‘Not a chance. And stop texting me random crap I don’t care about,’

 

‘I wouldn’t _have_ to text you random crap if you’d just reply, dipshit,’

 

_‘Huh?’_ Keith hissed, and it took Lance a second to realise that it hadn’t been indignation at being called a ‘dipshit’ that he was reacting to, but rather the fact that he hadn’t caught what Lance had said. He repeated it in signs, and smiled as Keith’s eyes darkened threateningly.

 

‘Fuck off, Lance - I’m so done with you’re shit,’ he tried to close the door, but Lance was just a little bit faster, slipping his hand between the gap before Keith could bolt it shut. 

 

‘Oh no you don’t, Mr.,’ he said, switching his hand out for his foot so that he could carry on signing. _Look, I know I fucked up this morning, but I can’t explain it to you if you refuse to see me, can I?_

 

‘And what if I don’t want you to explain?’ Keith challenged, narrowing his eyes. Lance huffed dramatically. 

 

_Well, then that’s your problem, and oh, look - I don’t give a shit._

 

Keith grunted irritably, his throat clenching strangely around the sound. ‘You’re such an ass,’ he hissed, but his grip on the door softened slightly, letting Lance slip further into the apartment. ‘How can you not care about what I want?’

 

Lance considered his question for all of three seconds before grinning from ear to ear. _Because I know that’s not what you really want._ He stuck his tongue out playfully at the look of sheer indignation on Keith’s face. _I know you wanna talk about this - I know you want to yell at me and tell me you think I’m a dick, and trust me, I’m all for that, but first I want you to hear me out._

 

Keith sighed, but he glanced down at the floor uncertainly, letting Lance know that he had him on the ropes. That was at least, until Keith looked back up, eyes set hard. ‘Not today,’ he stated, voice cold. ‘I’m busy - I’ve got bigger shit to think about today,’

 

_‘Like what?!’_ Lance couldn’t help but yell it out as he signed, momentarily catching both himself and Keith by surprise. Wavering, Keith thought about just ignoring him and slamming the door in Lance’s face before thinking better of it. He breathed out heavily.

 

‘…Like.. the fact that I can’t sing,’

 

Lance blinked. 

 

_What?_

 

‘Ugh.. forget it! It doesn’t matter anyway -‘ Keith tried to shut the door again, kicking Lance’s foot, but he stood his ground, burying his shoulders between the door and its frame. ‘Lance, for quiznak’s sake, just _go home!’_

 

_‘What? No! What the hell, Keith?! What do you mean you can’t sing?! YOU’RE DEAF!’_

 

‘Yeah! _I know!_ God! Do you really think I don’t know that?! But.. ugh!’

 

_Dude, just let me in - we can talk about this inside, we’re making a scene out here._

 

‘Since when have you ever cared about making a scene?!’ Keith’s voice rose at least an octave, startling Lance into a momentary submission, but it didn’t last long. Renewing his attempts to get into the apartment, he eventually overpowered Keith and stumbled into the living room, watching as Keith threw his hands up in anger and slammed the door so hard it bounced in its hinges. ‘What the hell are you _doing?!_ I told you not to come in!’

 

_And now you’ve shut the door! You can’t be that bothered about me being in here if you’ve shut me in!_

 

‘Oh, my god! _Yes I can!_ And I _am!_ Just.. get lost!’

 

_No! Explain to me what the problem with you not being able to sing is. I can’t know if you don’t tell me._

 

For a moment it looked as though Keith was going to argue further, but instead he sighed and slumped down into the sofa, face burying in his hands. 

 

‘I told you - I can’t sing, Lance! I.. I used to sing all the time when I worked.. just stupid stuff, to help me concentrate, but I stopped when I lost my hearing. I guess.. well, I guess I thought it was pretty ridiculous for a deaf guy to sing, you know? But then this morning after you.. _left_ -‘ Lance felt his face heat up guiltily. ‘ - I tried. I wanted to work, but I couldn’t focus.. I just kept thinking about _you,_ and your stupid _face_ and the fact that you just up and _left_ me, and I needed something to help me work, you know?! But I couldn’t remember any songs, and even though I couldn’t hear myself, I knew I was getting it all wrong.. and then.. after Shiro left, I..’ he glanced up nervously, casting his eyes over towards his bedroom door. Lance followed the path, feeling his breath hitch as he caught sight of the cracked plaster on the wall. ‘..I got so pissed off I punched it..’

 

‘Keith..’ Lance murmured arbitrarily, before crouching down on the floor in front of him. He reached out a hand to turn Keith’s face towards him. _Keith, why didn’t you say you wanted to sing?_ All Keith did was snort at him, incredulous.

 

‘Because it’s stupid, and I’m an idiot,’ 

 

_You’re not! Don’t ever say that, okay? Look - I can teach you. What song were you trying to sing?_

 

‘Teach me?’ Keith laughed, voice sardonic. ‘Do you really think you’re so fantastic you could teach a deaf guy how to sing?’ Lance just smiled, shutting Keith up immediately. He hesitated for a moment before sighing, giving in. ‘Fine.. I was trying to sing ‘Red Rain’ by Peter Gabriel..’

 

Lance snickered uncontrollably, earning himself a glare from Keith. _Oh my god.._ he signed, trying hard to stop the laughter and failing. _You seriously listen to Peter Gabriel?!_

 

He didn’t miss the reddening of Keith’s cheeks. ‘Well, not any _more.._ ’ he muttered, turning his face away. ‘But I used to.. a lot.. after Shiro took me in he used to play his music all the time, and I guess it grew on me..’

 

_Okay,_ Lance signed, forcing himself to control his breathing. Laughing at Keith wasn’t going to do anything to get Keith to trust him again. _Alright, I don’t know the song, but give me a chance, and I’ll try and teach it to you again, okay? If I do, you have to let me explain why I ran away this morning, and you have to promise to forgive me._ Keith huffed.

‘I can’t just _promise_ to forgive you, Lance, otherwise I might as well just forgive you now - which I _don’t_ ,’

 

_Yeah, you do._ He grinned, eyes bright and dancing. Not waiting for Keith to give him a reply, he stood and walked to Keith’s laptop, still plugged into the tv. Once he had it turned on, he logged into youtube and searched the song, un-muting the speakers on both the laptop and television. He listened to it through three times before deciding that he had the tune and lyrics down well enough - thankfully it was fairly simple. Half way through the first play, Keith wandered over to Lance’s side, watching the bar at the bottom of the video make its way across the screen. Lance couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for Keith to know theoretically that the apartment was being filled with noise, but not being able to hear it. He brushed the thought off so he could concentrate better.

 

_Okay, I’ve got it down._ He signed after a while, turning away from the screen. Keith blinked at him, face skeptical. _Give me your hand._ After a moment of hesitation, Keith sat on the floor in front of Lance and held out his hand, palm facing up. Lance took hold of it, not missing the flinch that ran up Keith’s arm before beginning to tap out the tune. Keith’s eyes flickered up to Lance’s face, unsure and vaguely terrified. 

 

‘It’s okay,’ Lance told him, smiling reassuringly. ‘I’ll tap the tune out so you know how it goes - then we’ll go through the lyrics. Watch me sing it, so you can see how the words and tune go, then you can try it, alright?’

 

Keith just nodded, eyes still popping out from his head. But after a second, his eyes trailed back down to his palm where Lance was tapping away, and eventually he began to bob his head, trying to wrap his mind around the rhythm. It took a few repetitions, but Keith seemed to be getting it, his head falling in time with the taps until it looked like he was no longer relying on Lance’s soundless translation of the song. Once it reached that point, Lance abruptly pulled his hand away, drawing a disgruntled sound from Keith’s throat.

 

_Right - now the lyrics._ He smiled, nudging Keith’s knee with his foot when his face fell into anxiety. _Hey, don’t look at me like that! You’re getting it! You’ll do great._ He told him, and immediately started signing the song, mouthing each word along side the corresponding symbol. On the third run through, Keith started talking along with him, repeating every word Lance sang in a flattened, blunt sounding voice, head bobbing. After a few more tries, Lance stopped, leaning forwards. _Okay,_ he signed. _Time to put it all together._

 

‘What?! No!’ Keith yelled, pushing his body backwards. ‘I-I’m not.. there’s no way I’ll get it!’

 

_So why the hell were you talking along with me then? And bobbing your head and shit?_

 

‘Well.. t-that’s because.. Fine! Whatever. Just.. correct me if I fuck up, yeah?’

 

Lance nodded. _Course!_

 

Sure enough, every time Keith’s voice veered away from the tune, Lance tapped him on the knee, signing either up, down, sharp or flat, until after around an hour of singing it through, Keith had it almost down pat. 

 

Keith’s smile seemed to light up the room. 

 

_I told you you’d get it!_ Lance grinned, an unexplainable feeling of pride and warmth spreading through his chest. He knew it wasn’t his success but Keith’s, but it didn’t matter. Keith’s victories were Lance’s too. 

 

‘Oh my god..’ Keith mumbled, eyes trained hard on the palms of his hands, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had done. ‘A-are you sure I did it right? Are you sure you’re not just shitting with me?’

 

_Would I ever?_ Lance scoffed, raising an eyebrow. 

 

‘Uh, yeah.. you spend the majority of your life fucking with people, Lance,’

 

_I do not! I’m seriously offended you’d think that, Mullet! Have some respect._

 

Keith laughed, unable to hold it back. It made Lance smile just as much then as the first time he had heard it - it was like a music of its own, melodic and pure. For perhaps the millionth time since meeting Keith, he felt his cheeks heat up and ducked his head, trying to hide it. 

 

‘Lance..’ Keith’s voice startled him, but he didn’t look up, still too conscious of the reddening of his face. ‘..why did you just leave this morning?’

 

Shit. A small part of Lance had been hoping that if he could just distract Keith for long enough, he would forget about it and forgive him like it was nothing. But apparently Lance wasn’t that lucky. He also wasn’t lucky enough to have figured out a lie to tell Keith that would allow him to keep his burgeoning crush a secret for a little longer - he wasn’t quite ready to risk the end of their friendship just yet. He knew Keith was fond of him, but if he didn’t feel the same.. it could ruin everything. 

 

_Ahh.. y-you know what, Keith? I’m thirsty - how ‘bout we go get a coffee, huh?_ He signed, pulling his feet beneath himself in an attempt to stand, but Keith just grabbed hold of his wrist, yanking him back down.

 

‘Lance - no. You said you’d explain,’

 

_Lance yes. Lance wants coffee and Lance always gets what he wants._ Except for dark haired deaf guys with stupid mullets and annoyingly pretty voices. 

 

‘There’s coffee in the kitchen,’ Keith said, pointing, face set but Lance didn’t miss the pain hidden behind the backs of his eyes. ‘You went to all that trouble to get me to talk to you, and now you’re just gonna run away?’

 

Lance hesitated. Keith did have a point, but it didn’t quite seem important then. All of a sudden the terror of telling Keith how he truly felt seemed to have wrapped itself around his heart like a vice, clenching it painfully. He thought that if he had to say it, his heart would just give up and burst. Although an exploding organ almost seemed preferable to him at that point.

 

‘Lance?’

 

He looked up, eyes popping at the sight of Keith’s face. His eyes, half lidded as they were, were tilted upwards to meet Lance’s, reflecting the light from the window in mesmerising daytime stars. His unbruised cheek glowed pink, and Lance imagined he could see Keith’s pulse beating beneath the surface, too-fast and nerve-stricken like his own. He took a breath, steadying himself. 

 

_Ah.. what the hell.. Keith - you confuse the fuck out of me._

 

Keith blinked. ‘What?’ he hissed, darting forwards in agitation. Apparently he had been expecting some other kind of answer. Balking slightly, Lance laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

 

_Hey, you wanted an explanation - that’s it. You confuse me. Like, SO much. I can’t work you out, and I can’t work out what I’m thinking and stuff when I’m with you. So.. yeah.. I woke up this morning and just thought ‘what the fuck is going on’ and kinda ran away ‘cause I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to text you and explain, but I didn’t even know how to do that right, and then there was that meeting with the police in the studio, and I got all worked up and then you ignored me, and now we’re here. So really, if you think about it, it’s all your fault, Keith. If you weren’t so goddamned confusing and let me get my thoughts straight for once, I wouldn’t have run away at all._

 

‘You’re blaming this on _me?!_ ’ Keith yelled, indignation and fury clear. Lance tried to grin at him, but felt it falter under the weight of his stare. He backed away slightly, recoiling into himself. 

 

_Y-yeah?_

 

Wrong answer. 

 

A pillow hit his face, and it took Lance’s brain a full minute to register what had happened at all, during which time Keith had pulled himself to his feet and stormed to the other side of the apartment. Lance steadied himself, turning in time to watch Keith grab a tube of paint and hurl it across the room towards Lance’s head. He squawked and ducked out of the way, hearing it splat against the wall behind his head, the lid popping off as paint scrawled itself up and down the plaster work. He just had time to scramble to his feet as Keith replenished his arsenal, launching tube after tube in his direction like a supply of deadly projectiles. 

 

‘Keith!’ he yelled, darting for cover behind the packed coat stand by the door. ‘Keith, for quiznak’s sake STOP!’ 

 

Keith didn’t stop. 

 

He threw another tube.

 

‘You. Goddamned. Stupid. Egocentric. _Motherfucking. PRICK!’_ Keith punctuated each word with yet another unnervingly well aimed missile. ‘I can’t believe you! You’re _such_ a complete and utter fucktard! _How the hell can you blame this on me?!_ I can’t _believe_ I ever liked you! How could I be so. Fucking. _Stupid?!’_

 

‘Keith! Hey - _stop throwing shit!_ Lets talk this out!’ Lance all but begged, daring to peek past the coats acting as his shield only far enough to let him sign his pleading declaration at Keith. 

 

Wrong again. 

 

A heavy tube of paint hit him square in the face, sending him hurtling backwards into the bookcase behind him and he stumbled to the floor. A sudden realisation flashed in his brain like an epiphany: he had fucked up. Bad. 

 

_Keith! Keith, please! Oh, c’mon - stop!_

 

Another round of flying objects hurtled in his direction, this time consisting of tv remotes and coasters, interspersed by hardback books and paintbrushes. Lance hadn’t ever realised that so many everyday objects could be weaponised to such a devastating degree. It was almost impressive - it might have been if not for the bruise Lance could already feel forming between his eyebrows. 

 

_FOR FUCK SAKE KEITH, GIVE IT A REST!_

 

‘Get the hell out my flat,’

 

_What? No! I’m not leaving until we -_

 

‘I said get the hell _out of my flat Lance!’_

 

And so Lance got the hell out. He got out as soon as he saw Keith standing with his hands wrapped around a pile of dishes stacked at least six high, each ready and waiting to be sailed through the air towards a poor unsuspecting Cuban face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did y'all think?! (thought I'd start channeling Texan!Keith with the whole y'all thing. I think it's funny.) As always, comments and kudos make me dance with happiness - something I sorely need right now - so please leave me a message! Even one word is seriously loved! <3
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6BesY5Doec this is the link to Red Rain - I SERIOUSLY recommend you all go and listen!
> 
> Come yell at me about Klance on Tumblr! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e I would love to talk to you guys!  
> (..so many links this chapter.. man I need to shut up. Sorry! <3)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets the cold shoulder treatment, while Keith is forced to learn the full extent of what it's like to be treated as though he's 'normal'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So, once again I'm double posting! This is a two chapter update, because I have very bad impulse control and oh my god I just really want to post chapter 10 already. It is also as a small - and rather belated - thank you for the fact that this fic has well and truly broken the 1000 hits mark! Just.. oh my god. I never expected that to happen in a million years. You guys are so incredible <3
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a little bit of a filler chapter - I needed something final to happen to kinda push the story in the way I saw it going, and it ended up like this. Also, I really wanted to explore how a stricter lecturer would affect Keith's progress so far. I've had a lot of lecturers like the one in this chapter, and while I personally don't mind them, I was interested to see how Keith would react, considering his very fledgeling confidence, as well as how it would impact his rather dramatic feud with Lance. 
> 
> Also, I'm updating the tags on the fic, but they're for chapter 10, and they'll be fully explained in the notes on that one :) I hope you enjoy the update! As always, comments give me life, kudos make me squee like no one's business and bookmarks literally make my cry with happiness!

 

 

‘Hoooo Boy, did _you_ fuck up.’ Shiro snapped, slamming down into the empty chair by Lance’s side. 

 

After his pitiful display at Keith’s apartment, Lance had called Hunk in a fit of near-tears, begging for help and advice. And Hunk - working from a base of plentiful past examples of Lance’s ability to single-handedly fuck up promising relationships - had called an emergency meeting at Allura’s coffee shop. To Lance’s never-ending horror, said meeting had included the older Brogane, one who was visibly seething with rage. 

 

Lance cast his eyes down, burying his face in his arms. ‘Give me a break, Shiro - I’m still in shock, here,’

 

‘Give _you_ a break?! What the hell were you even _thinking,_ Lance?! Do you know how many times Keith’s texted me since you left?!’

 

Lance’s head perked up a little at that, a pathetically self-indulgent delusion of Keith begging Shiro for help getting Lance back dancing through his brain. Shiro’s venomous stare shot said delusion down in a heartbeat. He shook his head, gulping hard. 

 

‘Sixteen times, Lance. _Sixteen times!_ He’s _furious!_ I’ve never _seen_ him so mad! You know, he actually agreed to moving colleges because of you?’

 

‘He _what?!’_ Lance and Pidge screamed in unison, and for a moment Lance thought he might have an ally - at least until Pidge rounded on him.

 

‘This is all your fault!’ They barraged, eyes scrunched shut in inexhaustible fury. ‘How the hell could one person be so fucking stupid?! Oh my god! I- I can’t even think of anything to say.. except that if Keith leaves _I’ll never forgive you!’_

 

Lance sighed dramatically, but no one missed the edge of genuine grief cutting along side it. ‘Forget about _you_ forgiving me,’ he mumbled, closing his eyes dejectedly. ‘I’d never forgive _myself,’_

 

‘Okay, so now we’ve established that Lance - and don’t get me wrong, dude, I love you like a brother, I really do - is kind of a train wreck when it comes to Keith, what the hell do we do to fix this?’ Hunk asked, glancing nervously around the table. 

 

‘I’m not entirely sure I _want_ him to fix it,’ Shiro said, arms folding across his chest. Lance shot his head up, eyeing him incredulously. ‘Don’t you dare look at me like that, kiddo - you _know_ how bad you messed up. If Keith’s this hurt ‘cause you couldn’t even tell him the truth, what’s it gonna be like in the future? Maybe you’re better off apart,’

 

‘…Do you really think that?’ Lance had never considered it before. He had never thought about the possibility of him and Keith being incompatible. What if they were destined to make each other unhappy? Further the other’s neuroses and insecurities, damaging everything good about each other until there was nothing left?

 

He was only drawn out of his progressively more negative free fall by the clear, musical notes of Allura’s voice. 

 

‘Don’t you think you’re being just a little unfair on him, Shiro?’ she asked, stopping by his side to place a hand on Lance’s shoulder. ‘Don’t you remember what it’s like to fall in love for the first time? The way you always seem to say the wrong thing, never quite plucking up the guts to tell the truth about how you feel?’

 

Allura missed the way the entire table seemed to freeze mid-sentence, eyes staring and mouths wide open. That was, until she heard a sound similar to a cat dying make its way steadily from Lance’s mouth. She looked down, frowning hard. 

 

Lance was the colour of beetroot. Not just a light twinge of beet shading his skin at the edges, or even a thorough re-colouring of his cheeks and ears. No - every inch of Lance’s skin, visible or not, had taken on a reddened quality so intense that for a horrifying moment, Allura genuinely feared that he might explode. She turned back to Shiro, who’s own face was only a few shades lighter.

 

‘What..?’

 

‘OH MY GOD.’

 

Yep. There it was - the sad explosive end of Lance McClain, claiming four other victims in its sheer intensity and sudden, violent expulsion. 

 

He clapped his hands over his mouth, shoulders raising to an impossible height as though he were trying to hide his entire body away inside of his chest. 

 

‘Oh my god I’m in love.’

 

His eyes looked as though they were going to burst from his skull and land on the table before him. He didn’t really think he’d mind it if they did, if he was honest. Anything to stop him from furthering the nightmare of a realisation he was currently reaching. 

 

‘Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my-‘

 

‘Woah, woah, woah - Lance! Okay, let’s stop doing that,’ Shiro rushed, reaching out a decidedly shaky hand to grasp Lance by the shoulder. He couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard. He didn’t think he _wanted_ to, either. 

 

‘Dude, are you _serious?’_ Hunk demanded, leaning far across the table to get a better look at Lance’s scared owl-eyed face. All Lance could do was squeak miserably and nod his head before flopping down onto the tabletop in abject horror and grief. He felt like his world was ending. Like his whole existence had just been proclaimed some cosmic joke, and there was the punch line, just waiting for the drum roll. 

 

He had never felt so cheated in his entire life. 

 

‘Ugghhhh! Isn’t love supposed to be like, _happy,_ or some shit?!’ he begged, letting his arms fall down by his sides, his cheek pressed sulkily into the wood. A small laugh from Allura made him blink upwards into her face.

 

‘Not always,’ she smiled, her eyes disproportionately fond for the situation. ‘Love can be.. a disaster. And I think for you and Keith, it’s very much that,’

 

‘What?!’ Lance was on his feet before he realised he had moved. ‘Keith doesn’t _love_ me! Keith doesn’t even _like_ me!’

 

‘Dude.. what world have you been living in?’ It was Pidge who had spoken, eyebrows raised and nostrils flared. ‘Keith’s like, _in love_ with you, you amoeba,’

 

‘Wh-wh-what?!’ Lance couldn’t stop the splutter he let loose. 

 

‘Seriously, how have you not _noticed?!_ ’

 

‘Yeah, dude..’ Hunk succeeded, rubbing his hands together. ‘..I thought literally everyone knew..’

 

‘Shiro?’ Lance turned to look at him, eyes begging, but Shiro simply looked away. 

 

‘..Keith’s not said anything to me,’ he said, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Lance missed the skeptical look Pidge shot Shiro’s way. 

 

‘Well, either way, it’s not like I can fix this fuck up, can I?’ he slumped back down into his seat, returning to wallowing in self pity. Allura patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

 

‘We’ll sort something out,’ she told him, but her eyebrows creased together cautiously. Keith was notoriously stubborn, and once wronged would be loathe to trust again easily. She doubted even Lance’s eternal sunshine would be likely to succeed without issue, and as Lance was at the moment.. she looked down at him. She had never seen him so miserable in all the time she had known him. ‘Have you texted him since you left?’

 

Lance just glared at her. ‘He threw a remote at me, Allura.. _a remote!_ Not to mention the tube of paint that hit me right between the eyes!’ he pointed aggressively to his face. ‘He could have blinded me!’

 

‘I think you might be exaggerating a little bit..’ Shiro mumbled, still refusing to look at Lance. 

 

‘He was holding a pile of plates.. I _don’t think_ I’m exaggerating _that_ much, Shiro. He was gonna sail them at my head!’

 

‘And.. you love this guy why?’ Hunk asked, cocking his head to the side. Lance huffed and fell back onto the table.

 

‘I have no quiznaking idea, but I’m starting to regret it already.. Shiro, your brother’s an ass..’

 

‘Y-yeah.. hey, look - I’m sorry I said I didn’t think you and Keith should be together,’ Shiro rubbed his fingers together awkwardly. ‘I’ve changed my mind - I’ll help you. I-I can talk to Keith.. see what he’s thinking..’

 

‘You’d do that?!’ Lance yelled, practically jumping across the table into Shiro’s arms. He rebuffed him, attempting to hold him at arm’s length, but Lance failed to get the idea and continues to flail. ‘You’d do that for me?’

 

‘It’s more for Keith, but.. yeah.. providing you get off of me right now,’

 

Lance didn’t need telling twice. 

 

‘So, what’s the game plan?’ Pidge asked once Lance had somewhat calmed himself. For a moment no one spoke, until Hunk snapped his fingers and grinned. 

 

‘Got it!’ He yelled. ‘First - and Lance, I know you’re not gonna like this, but it’s probably for the best - you gotta leave him alone for a while,’

 

‘What?! No way!’

 

‘Lance, you need to give him some time to cool off,’ Hunk insisted, fixing him with a steady gaze until Lance backed down and consented to Hunk’s plan. ‘Good. I’d say a couple days - when’s your next lecture? Monday? Okay, give it till Monday then. Then on Monday, you go in, say hi, act all sheepish and sorry, apologise and all that good stuff, then if he isn’t crazy receptive, you go sit on your own so he knows you’re giving him space. _Then_ you pull out the big guns - you gotta do something special for him, like, something that no one else would think to do kinda special and -‘

 

‘-and how the _hell_ am I supposed to do that, huh?’ Lance interjected, drawing a frown from the group at large. It was a good point - how was Lance supposed to woo Keith so completely that he had no choice other than to forgive him? 

 

Not one of them had a single helpful suggestion. 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

By Monday, Lance was so thoroughly depressed that even his skin care routine had suffered. Shuffling half-heartedly into the lecture hall at eight fifty five, he rubbed his cheek in resignation, feeling the uncharacteristically rough skin beneath his finger tips. It was the first time in nearly five years that he hadn’t exfoliated and moisturised before leaving the house. He felt disgusting. 

 

His mood was worsened, however, when upon seeing him walk through the doors, Keith huffed irritably and turned away from him, chin held high in the picture of defiance, despite the red tint shading his skin beneath the bruising. All Lance could do was sigh from his toes and take his seat a few rows behind Keith’s head, ducking his chin down onto his folded arms. He didn’t think he had felt so useless and miserable in all of his life. 

 

As the last of the students found their seats, Lance chanced a glance over at Keith, a small squeak leaving his throat as he caught him looking over his shoulder covertly. He stiffened, thinking for a moment that Keith might have thought better of himself, but when Keith’s head whipped back to his notebook, Lance felt his heart plummet - it seemed as though he wasn’t going to stop ignoring him any time soon. He sighed, lowering his face back down onto his hands as the new professor walked into the room. 

 

Lance had heard that their old lecturer was being replaced, and had felt mildly disappointed. But on that particular morning, he found himself unable to care at all about the new woman, young and prim as she was, wearing an outfit better suited for an eighties law drama than an art history seminar. 

 

He found himself turning back to watch Keith; his head was bowed low over his notebook, stupid black mullet hanging around his face, right arm skittering back and forth as he sketched something in the corner of the page. Lance abandoned himself to a small smile - he had always loved to watch Keith sketch. It was nothing like watching him paint - Keith was prone to forgetting his brushes, favouring using his fingers instead - but the innocent concentration on his face was mesmerising. If it hadn’t been for the pointed cough of the lecturer, Lance might have forgotten about the seminar completely, and sat watching Keith draw all day. He looked up, scowling at the unwanted interruption. 

 

‘As I’m sure you’re all aware, there has been a shift in staffing,’ she began, head held high as she scanned the class, gaze flickering over to Keith for a second too long. ‘My name is Ms Browne, and I will be your new professor for the rest of the year. I would _appreciate_ your full attention in all of my classes -‘ she paused strangely, eyes lingering on Keith. ‘- as I feel that student participation is key,’ she coughed, her eyes narrowing. Tapping her fingers on the cover of her lecture notes, she took a few steps closer to where Keith sat. ‘ _Especially_ from those who seem to feel they don’t even need to listen,’

 

Lance felt his blood run a little colder. Was she talking specifically to Keith? He looked to Keith’s left, expecting to see Joseph ready to explain, but paused when he saw the seat empty. Why wasn’t Joseph there yet? And why wasn’t Keith panicking? He looked back at Browne, sensing the growing unrest amongst the rest of the students - something that Keith still remained blissfully ignorant of. 

 

Browne cleared her throat, tilting her head to the side as she considered Keith. ‘I wonder.. don’t you think it might be easier to listen if you took out your headphones?’ she asked, and Lance no longer had to wonder if she was indeed speaking to Keith - there was no one else she could be referring to. He gulped hard, a small feeling of relief flitting through his stomach as he heard one of the other students speak up.

 

‘Um, Ms Browne? That’s Keith - he’s-‘

 

‘I don’t need to know his name to know that he’s being perfectly rude, thank you. Oh, and look! His music is so loud he can’t even hear me,’

 

‘No - they’re not headphones -‘

 

‘ _Please_ do not interrupt me, young man. I am the professor here - I would like it if you would respect that,’

 

With the good samaritan thoroughly silenced, Lance raised his head fully, mouth hanging open as he watched on in horror. He knew he should do something - _say_ something - to explain that Keith wasn’t being rude or listening to music. That in actual fact, he wasn’t listening to anything at all - or would he ever listen to anything again - but he felt himself struck mute. Perhaps it was the fear of a reprimand from Browne that stopped him, but, he thought, it was far more likely the fear that Keith himself would scold him for intervening. For preventing him from dealing with it himself. 

 

Finally, Browne seemed to have had enough of Keith’s ‘rudeness’, and with a quick tap of her finger, scattered his notebook and papers all across the table. 

 

Keith darted upright in a moment, shoulders jumping in fright as a loud, startled noise left his throat. He cast his eyes around himself rapidly before they settled on Browne, and Lance heard another smaller groan let itself loose - this, one of confusion. Keith had no idea what was going on. 

 

‘I see you’ve finally deigned to grace me with your attention,’ Browne snapped, arms folding across her chest haughtily. Keith hummed uncertainly, twitching his head to the side.

 

‘Y-you said something?’ he asked, and Lance internally cursed any and all gods watching for the fact that Keith chose that exact moment to develop a terrible case of ‘bitch voice’. A fact that did not pass by Browne’s notice.

 

‘Well, _maybe_ you would have noticed if you had taken out your headphones!’ her voice raised at least an octave, and Lance wished that he hadn’t heard the small whimper that Keith made in response.

 

‘I’m sorry? I don’t understand -‘

 

‘What is there not to understand?’ Browne demanded, throwing her hands into the air. Lance thought the entire scene was comparable to a plane crash - devastating to watch, but somehow so gripping that he could not look away. ‘Take out your headphones, and give me your full attention for the remainder of our allotted time, or collect your things and don’t bother coming back,’ she gestured irritably to the papers scattered around Keith, and he followed her hand questioningly. She was speaking so quickly that Lance would have been amazed if he was managing to keep up. 

 

‘I still didn’t.. could you speak slower?’

 

That seemed to tip Browne over the edge, but Lance missed what she said as the girl next to him tapped him on the shoulder. Turning to look at her, she leaned forwards.

 

‘Aren’t you friends with Keith?’ she asked, and he nodded, looking from the corner of his eye to watch as Keith flapped his hands desperately around his ears. ‘You know sign language right? Now might be a good time to go interpret,’

 

He knew she was right, and that it was no longer a reasonable excuse that he was worried about Keith being mad at him. He was just about to climb from his seat when the door to the lecture hall opened, and a rather flustered Joseph stepped over the threshold. Lance caught the exact moment Keith clocked him, and smiled at the look of unadulterated relief spread over his face. 

 

‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ Joseph huffed, stuffing a hand full of papers into his bag. Browne turned to face him, her hands locking to her hips.

 

‘And who exactly are you? You look a little old to be one of my students,’

 

Joseph seemed taken aback for a moment, pausing uncertainly, before catching sight of Keith seated right in front of where Browne stood.

 

‘Oh, but you must have been told -‘ he started, signing something one handed to Keith. Browne raised her eyebrows, watching as Keith responded desperately. ‘You don’t know about Keith?’

 

‘Is this Keith?’ Browne asked, frowning as she pointed her finger in Keith’s face. Keith backed away as far as he could, attempting to avoid the dangerous tip of her fingernail. Joseph nodded. 

 

‘Yes, Keith Kogane - the deaf student?’

 

Browne froze immediately. 

 

‘I.. take it you hadn’t heard..’ Joseph’s voice couldn’t have been more concerned. He turned to Keith and signed quickly, nodding at whatever Keith had replied. ‘Oh dear.. he says that he thinks there has been a misunderstanding,’

 

‘There has been no misunderstanding, sir!’ Browne insisted, trying futilely to hang on to her last shred of control. ‘This student was wearing headphones, and I was simply trying to get him to remove them,’

 

‘That’s impossible, I’m afraid,’ Joseph told her, a small, sad smile on his face. ‘Keith’s been legally deaf for the last four years - and has barely been able to hear anything at all for the last two,’

 

‘..I was not informed that there was going to be a deaf student in my class..’

 

‘Well, I’m very sorry for that, but if you could refrain from treating Keith like a delinquent, I would be very thankful - if you take a closer look, you’ll see that those white things in his ears are not in fact headphones, but hearing aids,’ Joseph walked over and took his seat by Keith’s side, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘From now on -‘ he said, looking back up into Browne’s still flustered face. ‘- everything I say will be Keith’s words,’ he looked to Keith as he began to sign. _‘Sorry - I didn’t mean to seem rude. I thought there was a couple more minutes before it started, so I was just sketching,’_

 

Browne seemed to dislike hearing Keith’s words through Joseph almost as much as she disliked being interrupted. Huffing, she turned her face pointedly away from Keith. 

 

‘Well, don’t let me catch you sketching again. And Mr. Kogane? I will not baby you simply because you are deaf - you will receive no special treatment in this class. I hope you understand that,’

 

The silence that followed Browne’s statement was all encompassing, and Lance saw the small stiffening of Keith’s shoulders as he nodded. 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Lance had hoped that following the explosive start of the lecture, everything would return to normal. However, he had realised very quickly that he had been painfully wrong. The new professor, Browne, appeared to be a woman comparable only to a dragon. Not satisfied with her outburst at Keith, she had proceeded to belittle and insult almost every student in the room before the end of the first hour, and seemed set to continue her tirade throughout the rest. She had, in no particular order, scolded three boys for comparing notes, told one girl that if she was incapable of sitting still - despite said girl insisting that she had ADHD - then she should quit art history in favour of lap dancing, yelled at Keith for tapping his foot too loudly and even rounded on Joseph for asking her to have a little more patience. 

 

However, now she seemed determined to turn on Lance. 

 

They had been studying the use of colour in Renaissance painting as an identifier of character identity - something that Lance _obviously_ excelled at - when Browne pulled up a slide with a picture of the Madonna and Child. Lance couldn’t deny that the subject bored him to tears, and if it hadn’t been for Browne calling his name, he might not have even managed to stay conscious much longer. Raising his head from where it still rested on his arms, he stared at her, eyes blinking.

 

‘Mr. McClain,’ she sighed, rubbing her temples irritably. Lance winced internally, wishing he could disappear into the upholstery of the seat. ‘Were you listening to a word I just said?’

 

‘Uh.. no?’ he tried, kicking himself as she rested her hands heavily on her desk. He saw Keith throw him a pointed glare over his shoulder, but shrugged it off - Keith wasn’t the only one who could play the ignoring game. 

 

‘You astound me with your unrivalled ability to focus, Mr. McClain..’ Browne snapped, throwing a hand up to point at the painting on the screen. ‘I asked you if you could tell me what it is that identifies this woman as the Madonna - and I do _not_ want to hear you say that it’s because she is holding a child,’

 

‘Um..’ Lance looked at the painting somewhat desperately. He knew in theory that it was a colour - thanks only to the theme of the lecture - but that was as far as his knowledge went. He had no idea if the colour was on her or around her, and with no ability to decipher one colour from the next, he was at a complete loss. ‘I’m.. guessing it’s a colour?’ he asked, squinting hard. 

 

‘An answer unparalleled in it’s intelligence, Mr. McClain, but could you perhaps be a little more specific?’ 

 

‘Sorry, no,’ he hated himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Seeing the vein in Browne’s temple pulse, he prepared himself for the backlash. 

 

‘I think you misunderstood me!’ she yelled, fists balling by her sides. ‘While it _may_ have sounded to your tiny brain like a request, it was in actual fact _not._ Let me word this a little more simply for you - I want you to tell me which colour in this painting is used to identify the Madonna. It really is quite simple, Mr. McClain,’

 

‘Oh!’ Lance’s eyes brightened as a small shred of a half remembered text jumped into his memory. ‘It’s the colour of her cloak, right?!’ He thanked his stars for the fact that he had forced himself to read a few books on Renaissance paintings before the start of the module. 

 

‘Finally, we are getting somewhere,’ Browne sighed. ‘Now if you could just tell me what that colour is..?’

 

Lance fidgeted with his hands, feeling his cheeks heat up uncomfortably. It really wasn’t the same kind of sensation he got when he was around Keith, and he disliked it immensely. He glanced down at Keith habitually, tensing at the look of worry plastered to his face. 

 

‘Mr. McClain?’ Browne pestered, loosing the last shred of her already thin patience. Lance looked back up at her unwillingly.

 

‘Um.. so.. I can’t tell,’ he said at last, drawing a defeated laugh from Browne’s lips. 

 

‘You can’t tell..’ she sighed, raising her eyebrows. ‘You’re a student on an art course, and you can’t tell a simple colour like that? I’m not asking for the exact shade - although really you should know that too - I just want to know the generic colour,’

 

‘I..’m kind of… colourblind,’

 

A beat passed in silence before Browne startled him by laughing. 

 

‘Of course you are!’ she said, a bitter grin on her face. Her eyes sharpened as she looked back up at Lance, eyebrow twitching. ‘ _How_ could I not have guessed! An art student.. colourblind..!’

 

‘He really is,’

 

For a moment, Lance thought his ears were deceiving him as he heard Keith’s voice defend him. Browne’s eyes shot down to glare at Keith fiercely, and Lance watched him reel back before looking to Joseph.

 

‘What was that, Mr. Kogane?’ Browne demanded, tone harsh.

 

‘..He.. Lance, I mean - really is colourblind. He can’t see colour at all,’

 

‘Well that’s not _quite_ true,’ Lance heard himself saying, and bit his tongue to stop himself. It was a moment too late, however - Keith was already glaring daggers at him for ruining his efforts to help. ‘I mean.. I _can_ see colours.. like, I’m not a dog - I don’t see in black and white or anything. Not that I really know what black and white _are…_ I just can’t tell what colour is what,’ he shrugged, painfully aware that he was rambling. ‘I’ll shut up now,’ he mumbled, sinking into the back of his chair. Browne huffed, turning away.

 

‘I think that might be for the best,’ she said, voice resigned. ‘and for the record, Mr. McClain - the colour of the Madonna’s cloak is blue,’

 

_Oh.._ Lance thought, tilting his head to the side as he considered the painting. _So that’s what blue looks like.._ He heard a small familiar chuckle, and turned to catch Keith’s head as it swivelled once again away from him. 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

By the end of the lecture, Lance was drained.  He should have been physically fine, but after the onslaught of mental and emotional damage, even his body was feeling the sad effects. Rolling his stiff shoulders, he shoved his books into his bag unceremoniously and took to the stairs beside the rows of seats, nudging his way through the crowd. He wanted to catch Keith before he left the hall and make sure that he was okay; Browne had scolded him continuously throughout the lesson for making too much noise. It had been painfully obvious to Lance how much it had affected Keith, and he disliked the defeatist slump the Mullet’s shoulders had taken on. 

 

As he made it to the bottom of the stairs, his heart jumped at the sight of Keith and Joseph hovering around the door waiting for something, and he was about to raise his hand in greeting when he heard his name being called. His insides churned slightly, and his face fell to his feet. 

 

‘Mr. McClain,’ Browne said, her serpent-voice even and eerily calm. Lance slumped down into himself, turning reluctantly to face her. ‘I wonder if I can have a word for a minute?’

 

‘..Yeah..’ he sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He wasn’t an idiot - he knew Keith would be gone before Browne was done - but he still cursed the Gods for perhaps the hundredth time that day. Why were they so determined to refuse him a break? He trudged behind his professor back to her desk, hovering awkwardly on his feet.

 

‘I wanted to apologise,’ 

 

Lance blinked, not following. ‘Huh?’

 

Browne rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, gaze firmly fixed on the surface of her desk. She looked as though it were physically painful for her, but she took a breath and carried on regardless. ‘It was wrong of me to be dismissive of your.. disability,’ she said, carefully organising her papers between long, slim fingers. ‘I wanted to apologise for any discomfort my error may have caused you,’

 

‘My disability? What-?’ Oh. His colourblindness. He guessed, in a strange way, it _was_ a form of disability. He hummed thoughtfully - he had never considered it in that way before. ‘Uh.. it’s fine?’

 

‘Is it?’ She met his eye, making him recoil sharply. She hadn’t phrased it in a soft way - it was more of a challenge, as though she were daring him to contradict her. He simply nodded slowly, eyes flickering back to the door. Just as he had guessed, Keith was already long gone. 

 

‘Y-yeah, I mean.. how were you mean to know?’ he shrugged, hoisting his bag higher onto his shoulder. ’S’not like I give a damn, anyway - most people don’t believe them when I tell them. A colourblind artist is a bit weird,’ he laughed, rubbing the back of his head. Browne gave a small smile, and Lance caught himself leaning forwards - it was the softest expression he had seen her make. He thought it suited her far better than the dragon mask she had been wearing throughout the seminar. ‘But.. Ms Browne?’

 

‘Hm?’

 

‘I… do think you might wanna apologise to Keith. I mean, I don’t mind how you treated me - I’m pretty, you know, confident in myself and that, but Keith.. he’s not been deaf that long, and I think he’s still kinda trying to get used to it..’

 

Browne considered him for a moment before replying. ‘I think you’ve misunderstood what I’m trying to achieve by teaching you this way,’ she said. Lance raised his eyebrow skeptically, drawing a wry breath from Browne in response.

 

‘I’m not doing this to be mean to you - contrary to what I’m sure most of the students are thinking. Rather - I’m hard on you to make sure that you do the best you can. If I go easy on you all, I know you’ll end up taking it easy and letting yourself just coast through without putting in all of the effort you’re capable of - and don’t argue with that. I remember what it’s like being a college student - there’s _always_ something more important to be doing than work. But if you’re scared of your professor.. you’ll try harder,’

 

Lance thought about it. He guessed he could see her reasoning, even if it was a little perverse, and it did make him reassess his previous assumption of her, but he still shook his head and stood his ground.

 

‘That might be true,’ he told her. ‘but I don’t think Keith’s gonna see it that way. I think if you’re that hard on him, he’ll just end up closing himself off again - he’ll end up going the _opposite_ way to what you want. He’s not ready yet. I mean, yeah, he says he wants to be treated like a normal person, but I think he means ‘treated like a normal person with all the benefits of also being looked after’, you know?’

 

Browne shook her head, frowning. ‘No.. I don’t,’

 

‘Man.. how to explain this? Okay - so you know how Joseph signs to him right? Yeah, well when I first met him, I had no idea how to sign. Then I learned, and _god_ I’ve never seen someone look so happy! He wants to be treated like a normal person, but he also wants people to try and meet him in a place he feels comfortable and can understand, you know? Like, he wants people to joke with him, and talk to him like he’s a regular guy, but he also wants people to make an effort to understand what it’s like being deaf, and learn to speak to him in sign and stuff like that. So he’s not left behind,’ he tweaked his shoulder, grinning. Browne had a look on her face that spoke volumes - it was obvious that she had never even considered the possibility that Keith could be stuck in that kind of limbo. 

 

‘I.. see..’ she mumbled, raising her hand to her chin. ‘So.. you’re saying I should teach him the same as everyone else, but not.. scold him? For making noise.. like I would everyone else..?’

 

Lance nodded. ‘Now you’re getting it!’ he coughed, slinking back at the death glare Browne sent his way. ‘Ah.. I mean.. Yeah. Like, you can tell him when he’s being loud and that - he actually likes it when people do, ‘cause he gets embarrassed about being noisy - but don't yell at him or anything. Actually, better would be if you let _me_ tell him. I can do it subtly,’

 

‘..But you weren’t sitting with him? I didn’t even think you were friends,’

 

‘Haha.. about that..’ he rubbed his hand through his hair, feeling the familiar sensation of blood rushing to his cheeks. ‘I kinda pissed him off a couple days ago.. I’m working on getting him to talk to me again..’

 

‘Well, whatever you did,’ Browne said, straightening her papers as she stood from behind her desk. ‘fix it. It’ll make my life a hell of a lot easier,’

 

‘Mine too..’ Lance mumbled ruefully, mentally kicking himself once again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance formulates a plan™ and Keith has an unexpected amount of fun thanks to a punching bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update! 
> 
> So, as I said in the previous chapter's notes, there's been an update in the tags for this chapter.
> 
> IMPORTANT INFO: (sorry, just didn't want anyone to miss it by accident!) Basically, there is a flashback in this chapter that has graphic descriptions of how Shiro lost his arm. I didn't want to accidentally upset anyone, so I figured I'd play it extra safe and flag it in text for anyone who wants to skip that part. It's not vital to the story, and I'll give a summary a little further down here so no one misses what's going on. The flags are pretty obvious, I've put three *** as well as a note in [] those things where it starts and ends. If you're fine with gory stuff, please just ignore them! 
> 
> Okay, summary! Anyone who doesn't want the spoiler, please just skip ahead to the story! I'll say it here for those of you skipping the spoiler - please let me know what you think of this chapter - it was so much fun to write and I really am super proud of it. Comments and kudos are my life blood <3
> 
>  
> 
> \--- Basically, Keith has a dream of the car accident that made him lose his hearing and Shiro lose his arm. He remembers little details about it all, most importantly how when he came to he couldn't hear Shiro's voice anymore which made him feel like his world was closing in. After Keith wakes up from the dream, he caries on thinking about this, and thinks again about Shiro's arm, which is why the text jumps back in in the middle of a train of thought. Sorry about that, but I didn't know how to make it flow smoother. Where it comes back in, Keith's been thinking about how Shiro disregarded his own injuries while they were both in the hospital recovering, but Keith never bought it. The whole possible-skip bit is basically just Keith reluctantly remembering the car accident.

‘Keith, wait!’ Lance yelled, pegging it down the side walk, shouldering past the people walking the opposite way. ‘Hey! _Keith!’_ He knew it was pointless to yell, but something in his gut made him do it anyway.

 

After his conversation with Browne, Lance had rushed from the lecture building, scanning the street for any sign of a mullet, desperate to find him and see if he was alright. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to find Keith, but as soon as Keith had seen him, he had turned around and walked away. Lance’s stomach rolled, his heart pounding hard. 

 

He pushed through a group of girls, eliciting a high screech from them as he manhandled their shoulders trying to get past, but ignored them. He had more important things to worry about - like Keith and his stupid emo sulking marathon. If only Keith would give him a chance to _talk_ -

 

‘Keith! For god’s _sake,_ slow down!’ he felt a small pang of hope in his chest as Keith cast his eyes over his shoulder in Lance’s direction, eyes bugging slightly at the desperation on Lance’s face. The hope was short lived, however, as Keith still refused to stop. Lance huffed heavily, pausing for a moment to rest his hands on his knees before charging on down the street. It was clearer now between them, and it only took a few moments for Lance to catch him up, his hand falling like a weight down onto Keith’s arm. 

 

‘What-?! Lance, for quiznak’s sake, _let me go!’_ Keith yelled, trying in vein to dislodge Lance’s hold on him. Lance held on tight, wrestling with him until they were stood face to face.

 

‘Not a chance, Mullet,’ Lance panted, letting go of Keith so he could sign. _Do you know how long I’ve been running after you?!_

 

‘Yeah.. I saw you the entire way. It annoyed me,’

 

_Oh shut up, Keith. It’s pretty obvious YOU’RE the annoying one here._

 

‘ _I’m_ the annoying one?!’ Keith snapped, face incredulous. He sputtered for a moment, lost for words, before shoving his hand hard into Lance’s chest. ‘ _You’re_ the one who blamed me for freaking you out! How the _hell_ is that my fault?!’

 

_Wh- can’t you just forget about that? I just wanted to talk -_

 

‘No. We are not talking, Lance,’ Keith’s face was set like stone. There was no way Lance was going to get through to him, and the realisation plummeted his heart into his shoes. ‘I don’t want to talk about anything right now. I’ve got too much to do - like arranging my transfer to a school closer to Shiro,’

 

_Y-you’re really going?_

 

Lance didn’t think his heart could have experienced any more pain than it had in the last week, but that singular moment proved him wrong. He had always thought that the expression ‘broken hearted’ was just that, but as he watched Keith’s eyes flicker guiltily to the floor, he felt the very real sensation of his heart shattering into pieces. Keith was really leaving. And it was all his fault. 

 

‘Yeah. I am. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me, Lance,’ Keith’s voice was disarmingly soft, sending Lance’s head into a free fall. He felt like the world was moving away from him, sounds and sights growing distant as all the walls he built up around his emotions crumbled and cracked. ‘I-I’m sorry.. I just don’t think it’s good for me here,’ Keith turned to walk away, but before Lance could realise what he was doing, he had his hands wrapped around Keith’s biceps, tight enough to draw a wince.

 

’N-no.. no you can’t leave!’

 

‘Lance, I can’t -‘

 

‘ _You can’t LEAVE!’_

 

‘Woah - slow down! I can’t read what you’re saying,’

 

Lance let him go, hands shaking as he lifted them to his chest. It didn’t make sense. He had just realised that he was in loved with him. How could Keith leave now when he hadn’t even told him yet? It didn’t make any sense at all. 

 

_How can you just say you’re leaving? How.. I don’t want you to leave!_

 

‘This is my decision, Lance. I’m not going back on it. I’m sorry if this is hurting you, but.. I need to live my life for me. I just.. can’t live it for you, okay?’

 

Keith didn’t even wait for Lance’s reply. Before Lance could steady his mind and absorb what Keith had just told him, he had turned away and disappeared behind a crowd of people filling the streets. Even though Lance knew Keith could never hear him, he spoke anyway, voice quiet as a traitorous tear rolled down his cheek.

 

‘You can’t leave, Keith.. You can’t leave me behind..’

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

Pidge didn’t know what to say. They had thought that Lance’s outburst at the coffee shop was the height of pain that he could ever reach, but sitting there across from Lance as he cried into his knees was something they had never thought possible. They had never even imagined a scenario that could dissolve Lance into such a wreck, that could make him cry like his life was ending. Although, from what Pidge could piece together, it essentially was. 

 

Keith was leaving. And nothing any of them could say or do was going to stop it. 

 

They were sitting in Lance’s living room, Hunk leaning heavily against the window sill, eyes reddened in angst as he watched his best friend collapse in on himself. They had tried to contact Shiro, ask for his help convincing Keith to stay, but he had already gone back home. He had left that morning, resigned to the fate he had caused, and determined to give Keith what he wanted. They were on their own, and none of them knew how to fix it. 

 

‘I can’t deal with this.. I don’t want him to leave, guys..’ Lance’s voice was thick, full of sniffles and badly expressed emotion. It was his first time in love, and it couldn’t have made him feel worse. ‘I can’t lose him before I’ve even had a chance to tell him how I feel..’

 

‘Well.. what if you _did_ tell him?’ Hunk ventured, already unsure as to the use of the suggestion. Lance snorted derisively, banging his head against the back of the couch. 

 

‘Like that’d make a difference!’ he yelled. ‘He hates me! He.. he wouldn’t leave if he didn’t.. Oh my god..’ his eyes went wide, a fresh wave of tears running down his cheeks. ‘He doesn’t love me..’ he whispered, lips quivering pathetically as he did his best to hold them still. A weak moan escaped his throat, high pitched and desperate. ‘If he doesn’t even _like_ me then there’s no way in hell he _loves_ me..’

 

‘Lance,’ Pidge hissed, rushing from their spot to the floor in front of where he sat. They reached out a hand tentatively to rest on his knee - comforting was _not_ Pidge’s strong suit. ‘Lance, don’t think like that. We don’t know _what’s_ going on in Keith’s head right now - he might just be confused and running away,’

 

Lance sniffed sadly. ‘Y-you really think so?’

 

Pidge nodded. ‘I do. We might as well try everything we can think of before we settle on extremes like that, okay?’

 

‘O-okay..’

 

‘Good, now let’s try cheering up, yeah? If you think logically about it, there’s gotta be something we can do. I could create an algorithm of all the possible outcomes and try to determine which would be the best possible course of action -‘

 

‘Or..’ Hunk said, interrupting before Pidge could disappear further into their never-ending spiral of technical jargon. ‘we could start by thinking of a way to get Keith to work through his frustration? From what I saw last time I talked to him, he’s pretty angry about a lot of things, and like, I dunno, but I think he needs to sort through all that stuff before he can think about staying. You know, like how I bake when I’m stressed, or tired, or when I have a problem I can’t solve, and -‘

 

‘Oh my god!’ Lance jumped to his feet, scaring the ever-living hell out of both Hunk and Pidge. He turned his face between them, face glowing brightly against the backdrop of tears. Hunk and Pidge just stared at him, fearing for a moment that his mind had finally snapped beneath the pressure. ‘That’s it! Hunk, you’re a _genius!’_

 

‘W-well, I don’t wanna disagree with you,’ he said slowly, fluffing up under the praise. ‘but.. what exactly did I do?’

 

‘You solved it! I’ve got the answer!’

 

‘This isn’t a pop quiz, Lance,’ Pidge deadpanned, pulling themselves to a stand. They quirked an eyebrow as Lance laughed erratically. It really was frightening to see Lance so.. unstable. 

 

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ he said, waving his hand dismissively. ‘but I’ve got it! I know what to do!’

 

‘Wanna share it with us?’

 

Lance grinned, expression returning to the smirk he had worn throughout the majority of his life. He was done with feeling depressed. He knew exactly how to make Keith stay - now he just needed to go shopping. ‘Punching bag,’ he announced, pride refusing to diminish even as both Hunk and Pidge stared at each other in abandon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*** [Skip here if you want to avoid the graphic injury]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Keith was floundering. He knew it was a dream, knew it was nothing more than his subconscious returning to a day long passed, hurtling through time, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn’t wake up._

 

_He was in the car again, Shiro by his side in the driver’s seat, both arms real and face unscarred as he talked about a rugby tournament Keith would never go to. He turned his head like he always did, facing Shiro to tell him it was no big deal - the tournament was weeks away and it wouldn't matter if Shiro couldn’t make it; he would be fine. He always said the same thing, always grinned as Shiro whined in displeasure, lamenting his bad parenting skills for missing something so important to his adopted son. Even the swell of warmth in his chest was the same as ever, telling him in the same way it always did that he was loved now, cared for. Safe._

 

_The irony was enough to make Keith laugh, even in the dream. It was a sucker punch to the skull, a cosmic joke. ‘Safe’ could never be a word Keith identified with that day._

 

_He said something else - Shiro could make it up to him with a new pair of boots he had been eyeing up for the last month or so - drawing Shiro’s eyes away from the road. Just like always. Just long enough for Shiro to miss the truck merging onto the wrong lane of the freeway, veering down the road the wrong way. Just long enough to prevent Shiro from turning the wheel far enough to clear them from its path._

 

_The crash always happened the same way in the dream, but Keith couldn’t remember if that was how it had played out in reality. He couldn’t remember the moment Shiro noticed the truck, whether he had screamed the way he did in the dream and stomped on the break. Whether he himself had yelled out as well, and covered his face as he did now in his subconscious, whether his hands had shielded his eyes from the crunch of metal as the vehicles collided, the shattering glass collapsing into their car. He couldn't remember if the hand he felt Shiro extend out to him in the dream had been real, or if it was a figment of his imagination, calling out for comfort and support._

 

_He couldn't remember anything until the moment his eyes opened again, fuzzy and hazed in the wreckage of the car, fighting against the light of the afternoon sun to focus on the world around him. Couldn’t remember anything until he saw the arm in his lap disconnected from it’s owner._

 

_His first instinct was always the same, dream or not - it had to be his arm, torn from his own shoulder and fallen on his knees. He blinked thickly, confused as to why his face was wet and sticky, why there was a dark liquid filling his left eye, making it so difficult to see. But then his hands were raising, just like always, and with it came the realisation that it was not his arm. It was Shiro’s. He couldn’t turn his head, couldn’t turn to see why Shiro didn't had his arm anymore, but he could see from the corner of his eye that a sheet of metal separated him from his adoptive father like a border. He could see it was covered in blood._

 

_The dream always skipped at that point, jumping over the proceeding hours, only coming back into focus as he was cut from the wreckage, head dazed and ears frighteningly muffled even in the presence of chainsaws and a world meant to be filled with noise. He knew he should have been able to hear the machinery, knew he should have heard the calls of the firemen telling him to hold on. But all he could hear was static, interspersed periodically with deadened voices from which he couldn’t pull any words. He knew he should have heard Shiro - that was always the most frightening part. Not that he couldn’t hear the strangers around him, or even that Shiro had lost his arm. But that Keith could no longer hear his voice, comforting and strong even in the worst of storms._

 

_That was the moment that caused Keith the most pain, both in reality and in the world of his dream, made him feel as though everything was lost. He couldn’t hear Shiro’s voice._

 

_And without that, there was nothing but silence._

 

Keith lurched awake, frantically, breath ragged as it dragged in and out through his teeth. His throat hummed with powerful vibrations, and he knew without needing to hear that whatever sound he was making, it was _loud._

 

Raising a hand to his face, he rubbed his palm against his drenched forehead, before kneading it into his eye socket until it hurt. The pain seemed to ground him somewhat, bringing him back to the present and erasing the images burned into the backs of his eyes. It had been a while since he had last had that dream. There had been a time where it happened every night, replaying on a loop as soon as he felt asleep, but recently.. he had almost started to hope that it was over. 

 

He sighed heavily, letting his neck lose all strength as he flopped into the back of the couch. He hadn’t even meant to fall asleep. But rest had been such a rare commodity since his argument with Lance, that he hadn’t been able to resist it. He had known as soon as the dream had started that he was in it for the long haul, but he had foolishly believed that he could handle it. After years of seeing the exact same thing, anyone would assume the same. Keith had been astoundingly wrong. The image of Shiro’s dismembered arm lying in his lap drew the old feeling of intense, suffocating nausea from his stomach, bile rising up the back of his throat. His eyes clenched shut, fighting to banish the scene from his mind, to forget all about the weight of Shiro’s arm on his legs, the wan, hollowed look in his eyes when Keith had finally been able to see him in the hospital. 

 

 

 

 

 

***[graphic depictions end here]

 

 

 

 

 

Shiro had done everything he could to pretend that it was no big deal, that Keith’s injuries were more important than the loss of his arm, but Keith hadn’t been fooled. He had seen the gaunt expressions Shiro made when he thought no one was looking, felt the rumble of his chest as he cried when they shared a bed and he thought Keith was asleep. He had seen the way Shiro refused a prosthetic and rehabilitation for the first months after the crash. It had only been when Keith’s hearing had deteriorated to the point that he could no longer discern words that Shiro had finally agreed, purely so he could learn sign language. It had cost tens of thousands to afford the robotic arm, but Keith would pay it ten times over again just to see the look on Shiro’s face as he felt Keith grasp the fingers for the first time. To see Shiro’s face as he realised that for perhaps the first time ever, he had been wrong, and Keith right. 

 

He had never known which was worse, really, the fact that in that crash Shiro had lost his arm, or that Keith had lost his hearing. How was he supposed to figure out which fate was more unfair? Of course, Shiro had gained a replacement almost better than the original, while Keith had been left with no chance of ever regaining a world filled with sound, but still.. an arm over ears.. he didn’t know which would have killed him more. 

 

He shook his head harshly. There was no use in letting himself spiral down into his old depression. It was just the way things had gone, and there was nothing to do but get on and focus on moving forwards. And moving forwards meant going back home. 

 

A face flashed before his eyes, making him draw in a sharp breath. He had been doing his best to push the face from his mind for days, to do anything but think of it, but apparently, he was out of luck. Rubbing his face again, Keith abandoned himself to temptation and pictured Lance; his eyes, his lips, his skin, his smile. He pictured everything, letting it calm the tumultuous crashing of emotions within his chest. Keith was leaving, sure, but that didn’t mean that he would ever stop picturing Lance’s face, ever stop wishing he could hear his voice first thing in the morning, groggy and filled with sleep. It didn’t mean he would ever stop feeling the way he did in that exact moment, as though a single minute with Lance could fix all the ills Keith had ever felt. 

 

He would miss him more than words could ever say. But that would never be enough to make him stay, not when Lance clearly didn’t feel the same. Losing his hearing, watching Shiro go through rehabilitation - none of that even compared to the pain of seeing Lance every day and _knowing_ that what he felt was a lost cause. It sucked, but it was just the way it went, and leaving was the only thing Keith could think to do about it. 

 

Pulling himself from the couch, he let his head hang forwards for a moment, his chin tucked against his chest as he readied himself to carry on with his life. A few steadying breathes later, and he opened his eyes, shuffling his feet towards the kitchen in search of coffee. He would need to start packing up his apartment soon, but that daunting task would require caffeine to get him through. 

 

Once he had clicked the button to start the brewing process, he leaned back against the counter and cast his eyes around the room. He liked it there, he couldn’t deny it. It was a nice apartment, with every appliance he could need, but best of all it was _his._ It was a worry he’d had about moving back home, that Shiro would insist he went back to living with him. Keith didn’t hate living with Shiro - in fact, he had often missed their morning conversations, and having someone there when he got home from college - but having finally flown the nest and moved into his own apartment was so freeing that he didn’t think he ever wanted to go back. He didn’t want to be a twenty two year old still living with their parental figure. It wasn’t a future he had ever envisioned for himself. 

 

Huffing, he pulled himself from his reverie, finally remembering the coffee he had put on to brew. Turning to the machine, he saw that the button had stopped flashing and pulled the pot from the hotplate. He had been planning on watching a few episodes of ‘Strange but True’ to distract himself from his spiralling negativity, but as he poured the coffee into his mug, the apartment lights started flashing on and off - someone was at the door. 

 

Keith hated his doorbell. Being deaf rather obviously rendered a traditional doorbell moot, and the only other option available to him had been to have one connected to the light system that made them flicker to alert him to visitors. Usually he just told people to text him, but it didn’t stop neighbours from still using the button. He breathed out heavily, choosing to ignore it - if it _was_ one of his neighbours, they would give up and assume he wasn’t in before long. And the only other people it could be, he had no desire to see. 

 

Taking a seat on his couch, he pulled his laptop up onto his knees and opened youtube, doing his best to tune out the obnoxiously flashing lights. Eyebrows creasing in growing anger, he typed an episode into the search bar, and was just about to click the link when his phone buzzed, making him jump about a foot in the air. The lights had ceased flashing, but it appeared as though his phone had taken over the gauntlet. 

 

Keith sighed as he pulled it from his pocket and opened the text. 

 

**Lance:** Hey, Mullet! Open the goddamned door! I've been ringing your bell for AGES!

 

He felt a vibration that might have been a growl run up his throat, and shoved his phone face down on the couch, until it buzzed another four times and he finally gave in.

 

**Lance:** What? You gonna ignore me now?

**Lance:**..Bit late, but how does your doorbell even work?

**Lance:** DOES it work?! Or is it just binging and you can’t hear it?

**Lance:** But I can’t hear it going off either.. maybe it just doesn’t do anything at all. 

 

Keith gripped his phone tightly in his hand as another slew of messages ran across his screen.

 

**Lance:** You really need to get a doorbell that works, you know

**Lance:** Whatever kind of doorbell that could be.

**Lance:** Could you get one that was like, connected to your TV or something? Like, maybe it could change the channel whenever someone rang it?

**Lance:** Or maybe turn it on and off until you open the door?

**Lance:** But then again, if you weren’t in the lounge that’d be pretty pointless I guess..

**Lance:** Oh! OH OH OH! I’VE GOT IT! A DOORBELL PSYCHICALLY CONNECTED TO YOUR MIND! Yes!

**Lance:** …But I guess if you were out of your apartment and someone kept ringing it that’d get pretty annoying.. Imagine having like, a postman pressing it a whole bunch of times when you’re in a lecture and you just get ENDLESS psychic messages! That sounds like literal hell..

**Lance:** Maybe we won’t go with that one..

 

For a moment, Keith considered just throwing his phone from the window and watching it shatter against the pavement four stories below. Until the mental image of Shiro freaking out over losing contact with him assaulted his senses. Thinking better of himself, he closed his eyes and counted to ten, doing everything in his power to ignore the near constant buzzing of his phone in his hand. He would kill Lance. He would open the door and pour the pot of hot coffee over his head. Keith took back everything he had thought about missing him - how the _hell_ could he ever think he would miss someone so _annoying?_

 

His phone buzzed again, just once, and Keith realised that it had all but stopped before that final text. Cracking a too-curious eye open, he glanced down at the screen.

 

**Lance:** But seriously, open the door, Keith.. I have something for you. Consider it.. a going away present.

 

He could almost imagine the pained look on Lance’s face as he typed it, and felt his heart clench in response. Lance might not have felt the same way about Keith, but Keith still knew it was unfair to just leave him after Lance had done so much for him. After he had learned sign language.. After he had dropped everything to save him when he was attacked. He felt a swell in his chest that wasn't entirely unpleasant, and made yet another noise that could have been a growl. Giving in, he pushed himself back to his feet and stormed over to the door, words of anger and irritation already on his tongue as he yanked it open and shoved his face out into the hall.

 

He stopped dead. He couldn’t see Lance at all. All there was filling the entire corridor was a cardboard box taller than he was himself, pressed up into his doorway and teetering precariously as it rested on one side. 

 

Blinking stupidly, Keith made a noise in his throat, before jumping backwards as Lance’s shit-eating grin popped out from nowhere behind the box. A second later, his hands appeared, and he began to sign.

 

_You gonna let me in, Mullet-Head? Or you gonna leave me standing on your doorstep with a giant box? Honestly, I don’t think I can carry this back down the stairs by myself._

 

Keith just stared at him gone out for a moment, before opening his mouth like a fish. Stepping backwards slightly, he motioned thickly with his hand for Lance to shuffle his way inside. 

 

‘Wh-what the hell.. what is that?! I don’t need something so - wait. Did you carry that up the stairs?!’

 

Lance paused in his awkward shuffling long enough to turn and sign back at Keith, a smile splitting his face proudly in two. _Yep! Although I ran into your neighbour and he gave me a hand. Think he said his name was John.. or James.. something like that._

 

‘Jonah,’ Keith corrected absently, blinking once again as he watched Lance flick his hand over his shoulder in acknowledgement. ‘Lance.. what the hell is that?’

 

Lance shouldered the box into the corner by Keith’s TV and turned around, visibly panting against the exertion it had taken to move it. He still grinned, though, and Keith felt his stomach flip nauseatingly. _It’s a punching bag!_

 

‘A.. - What?!’

 

_A punching bag. You know, a bag that you punch? It’s kinda soft, but not really, and it’s good for like, practicing boxing and shit? I thought you could do with one to unwind._ Lance’s face softened inexplicably, making Keith furrow his brows in confusion. It wasn’t an expression he was used to seeing Lance pull. _I.. remembered how you said you used to play rugby before you went deaf, and well.. it kinda made me think that maybe you used exercise as a way to work through shit. Like, maybe working out helped your clear your head. And obviously a crap load of stuff has happened recently, and I thought it would be a good idea to maybe help you calm down. By punching things. Safely._ Lance’s eyes flickered briefly over to the still-visible dent in the wall by Keith’s bedroom door. 

 

He didn’t know what to say. What Lance had said about using exercise to calm down was true - it had been something he had done constantly before he lost his hearing, but he hadn’t even thought about it in years. Gaping slightly, he watched as Lance fidgeted back and forth, his hands wringing nervously in front of his chest. 

 

‘Y-you.. did that. For me,’

 

Lance nodded, mouth pulled tight into a line. 

 

‘Why?’

 

_Because I.._ Keith watched Lance breathe heavily, as though wrestling with his thoughts. _I care about you, Keith. Like, so much that it hurts. And I know I’m the reason why you’re leaving, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop that, but it doesn’t mean I’m ever gonna stop wanting to help you. I’ll never stop caring about you, Keith, and the last thing I want to see is you feeling shit because of something I did. I guess I just wanted to do something that would help, for once.._

 

‘Lance..’

 

_No! No, no, no, no, no!_ Lance rapid-fire signed, darting forwards to grab Keith by the shoulders and shove him towards the box. _Try it out first, then we can talk. I wanna see if you like it! I tried to get colours you’d like - Pidge and Hunk told me you like red, white and black? Or at least that you wear that a lot._

 

Keith looked down at his clothes, noting his red top and black hoodie. There were white accents on the jacket he had been wearing earlier in the day - he guessed he _did_ like those colours after all. He looked back up at Lance who was staring at him expectantly. 

 

_I.. I asked the woman in the store what the colours were, and she said those three, but.. to be honest I don’t have a clue.._ He rubbed the back of his neck. It occurred to Keith then that he had never seen Lance look so nervous before. It made his heart hurt, and he couldn’t stop himself from stepping forwards to open the box. Sure enough, inside was a punching bag with white, red and black stripes spiralling up and down the body. It was fixed to a weighted stand so that it didn’t need to hang from the ceiling, and felt firm beneath his fingertips. 

 

He couldn’t quite believe that Lance had bought it for him. No one aside from Shiro had ever known how much exercising had helped Keith to work through his thoughts when he was younger, and yet there was Lance getting it right on a guess. 

 

No. Maybe it wasn’t a guess at all. Maybe Lance just knew Keith that well. Well enough to all but read his mind and figure out exactly what he needed to feel better.

 

Pulling the last of the packaging from the bag, Keith slipped his hair up into a bobble before glancing back over at Lance one last time. Lance just nodded encouragingly, and that was all Keith needed - he pulled back a fist and connected it hard with the surface of the bag. 

 

It felt _good._ It felt better than he ever could have imagined it would. He grinned, feeling the long lost sensation of exercise induced adrenaline flood his system, and let his body drop down into the boxer’s stance he had once known so well. 

 

He punched ruthlessly, fists bounding off the surface in satisfying thuds, feet bouncing lightly against the ground as he dodged left and right. He didn’t even notice as Lance melted from his side to take a seat on the couch behind him, didn’t register that his throat was vibrating with noise at the effort he put into each swing. None of it mattered anymore. Nothing but the sting in his hands, the burn in his legs counted for anything. 

 

When he finally stopped, he was panting harder than he had in a long time. It had occurred to him at various points over the past four years that he must have gotten out of shape, but he hadn’t thought that he would be so exhausted after only fifteen minutes practice. He would have to work on that. 

 

Leaning his hands down on his knees, he let himself breathe for a few minutes, getting his heart rate back to normal as his chest ceased to heave on every breath. He swiped the sweat from his forehead and stood up straight, feeling lighter than he had in years. The difference was incredible. His chest no longer ached, and his head was so light it almost spun, but everything was crystal clear and right in front of him, as though it had always been there. And he guessed, in a way, it had been - he had just been too blind to see it. A small smile made its way onto his lips and he met the eyes of Lance who was still watching him from the couch. 

 

_Jeez, you really beat the shit out of that._ He grinned. _Remind me never to piss you off again._

 

Keith felt himself laugh, and closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t felt so good for a long time. ‘Yeah.. maybe next time you’ll think before you tell me it’s my fault you jilted me,’

 

_Oh, so we’re still talking about that, are we? And here I thought I was forgiven for having bought you such an AMAZING gift._

 

Keith dropped down onto the coach by Lance’s side, turning his face to look at him. ‘You think that gift counts as ‘amazing’ now, do you? I could think of something _way_ -‘ He felt his voice dry up, cutting short. His face was too close to Lance. Too close to think, to form words. He could feel Lance’s breath ghosting over his cheeks, could see the tiny freckles he had never noticed before scattered across his nose. He could see the look of terror flitting through his eyes as he too registered the inches between them. 

 

Keith’s breath stopped cold, chocking in his throat. He had sat too close, gone down too sharply and failed to consider the tilt of the couch as it carried him into Lance’s side. He needed to move, to get away, move further back, far enough that he would no longer be able to see every agonising detail of Lance’s face. Of his skin. His lips. 

 

But he couldn’t make himself move. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to run, but not a single synapse in his brain agreed to fire, and so he sat, not moving, three inches from the boy he was falling in love with’s face. It was killing him. 

 

He tried to speak, to say _something,_ but he was too far gone to even tell if his voice was working at all. How was he supposed to know if every nerve in his body was burning already? But the pain wasn’t one he ever really wanted to end. As much torture as it caused, sitting that close to Lance, it was also bliss, as though he could pretend for a moment that Lance wanted him there. _Wanted_ him close enough to make him his. 

 

But then the agony of truth returned to his brain, and he felt his chest flood with a longing he hadn’t thought himself ever capable of, a longing that seemed to entirely eclipse every want he had ever had with the knowledge that he could never have _this._ Have _Lance._

 

Keith felt his face flush red with a mixture of things too intense to identify, and made to jerk his head backwards, desperate to find some kind of air to breathe. But as he raised his hands, too stunned to speak real words, his mind was plunged into a vacuum by Lance’s fingers wrapping around his own. He held them there for a moment, suspended between them, screaming their presence so loud Keith thought he might _hear_ them, before Lance was moving in, closing the space that separated them. 

 

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the words of anger he was sure were on Lance’s lips, wanting more than anything to close them out, shut them away from the world forever. But then he felt a mouth against his own, soft and hesitant, so tender that it almost hurt. So _terrified_ it echoed his own. 

 

And then he was kissing back. And it was with a fever so intense, a need so strong that he was no longer upright when his mind filled back into the space it had once occupied. And he was on top of him, on top of Lance as he kissed him like the world depended on it, like it could change _everything._

 

He couldn’t breathe. The air was lodged in his throat somewhere, clawing through his lungs like animals, but for the first time in his life he didn’t need air to live. He just needed this. Just needed Lance. And it was blinding. 

 

The fingers on his face twisted and curled into his hair, carding, _pulling_ him closer and closer yet. They _wanted_ him, wanted him close, wanted him nearer and nearer until Keith worried he would fall right through him, right into the couch itself. But once again he didn’t care. If it meant being closer to Lance then he would sacrifice anything, _give_ him everything he would ask. 

 

But that still wouldn’t be enough, not to satisfy the need Keith felt for Lance in that moment. 

 

He chocked on the air, burning his lungs, but he didn’t want to pull away, didn't want to end it. He didn't know if he would ever get that back again, the feeling of Lance’s lips crashing against his own. But Lance too, was struggling for air now; Keith could feel his chest heaving beneath him.  So he pulled away, swallowed down his desire and let himself be contented with that. Even if it was the last time he ever felt it, he would never wish it any different. Until he felt Lance pepper tiny kisses along his jaw and up onto his brow. Until he felt the hands he had longed to hold wrap so tightly around his shoulders he thought they might never let go. Then, and only then, did Keith realise how wrong he had been - he would _never_ be satisfied with just one kiss. He would never be able to spend the rest of his life doing nothing but remember. He needed _more._

 

Lance’s thumb stroked beneath his eye, asking for access, and slowly Keith gave him what he wanted. What greeted him drew the fledgeling breath from his lungs: Lance’s face was so perfectly flushed he seemed to glow, eyes so soft they spun Keith over a mental ledge he hadn’t even known he was nearing. But then Lance was speaking, lips moving soft and slow as he cupped Keith’s chin possessively in his palm. 

 

_I never thought I’d get to do that. I never thought you’d feel the same._

 

It took a full minute for Keith’s brain to catch up, to digest the words and think of it’s own to utter in response. ’T-the same? I feel the same as you?’

 

Lance was nodding, face backlit by such a brilliant grin Keith thought it would blind him. But what a wonderful way to say goodbye to the world. 

 

_I love you, Keith. I have done for the longest time. I just regret not saying it sooner._

 

Love. Lance had said love. He wanted to deny it, insist he had read it wrong, but he knew that was a lie. Because there he was, lying across his couch beneath him, legs tangled within his own, hand stroking his face so tenderly it lit a fire beneath his skin. And he knew in that moment that Lance was right - he _did_ feel the same. 

 

‘Oh god.. I love you too,’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT FINALLY HAPPENED! Oh my god I cannot tell you how long I've been wanting to post this! 
> 
> Also, don't start listening to Jame Vincent McMorrow while you write.. things turn out far angstier than you were originally planning. Sorry. I hurt my own heart with this chapter.
> 
> Come scream with me about Klance! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance reminisces in more ways than one. Some reminiscences, he finds, are not quite so pleasant..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shock, Horror!* Second upload of the week!
> 
> I know, I know, don't I have a degree I'm supposed to busy working on? Graduation in four months to be preparing for? The answer is yes. So I wrote this instead. Stress is a wonderful thing, and procrastination is it's best friend, as well as mine (send help, I have so much work). Buuuutttt I had a shitty day and this chapter just wanted to be written so much that I had to oblige! 
> 
> Although, small apology.. it was meant to be all fluff. I don't know what happened, it honestly wasn't my fault. Blame my music, not me. Sorry, Lance. I promise the next one is more of a fuzzball marathon, I swear (sort of).
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this impromptu little update, and thank you SO much for all of the feedback so far! I have a bit of a plan for an idea, and I'd love to hear your guys' opinions on it as well as this chapter - basically, I'm a painter, and a lot of the paintings I've done this year are ones I've ended up imagining Keith would paint. If people wanna see them, I can create a Tumblr blog for them and post the link for it here ^^ in case any of you were wondering what Keith's artwork looks like. Sadly I'm shit at photography so I can't do the same for Lance's (my best friend, however.. that's another story and another half-baked idea I'm gonna have to fight off).
> 
> Comments, kudos and such are so much loved!

 

 

 

 

It was like a dream. Lance couldn’t really describe it, but the image of Keith’s face, eyes closed and panting for breath above him was like nothing he had ever thought possible. It was intoxicating to think that he had done that to him, pulled that look from his face. That _he,_ normal, everyday, _inadequate_ Lance McClain had made Keith look so… full. He didn’t ever want to stop picturing the way Keith's eyebrows had drawn together in longing, the way his lips had parted between ragged, searching breaths. The way he had moaned into him. 

 

The kiss was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and he had felt _plenty_ of kisses in his time. But that was different. Keith’s weight on top of him had been different. The way he had raked his teeth over Lance’s lips had been different. Hell, even the way he had _sounded._ It was so needy, so pure. As though all he had needed in that moment was Lance. He didn’t ever want to forget it. Even the simple thought of it made his gut explode in a vision of fireworks, brought a heat up from the core of his body until it felt like it would burn him out. He smiled, fingers brushing reminiscently over his lips. 

 

But as a pair of fingers flittered into his line of sight, clicking impatiently, he was brought out of his reverie with a crashing finality. Looking up, he blushed slightly at the look of irritation coating Keith’s face. They were still in Keith’s apartment, Lance having been sat on his couch waiting for him to shower. Lance had _obviously_ suggested that he just shower with him, but the pillow Keith had shoved into his face had ended that particular daydream. Apparently he still wasn’t ready for something so _steamy._

 

‘What the hell? I was busy thinking!’

 

Keith just raised his eyebrow, his hand returning to his hip. Sighing, Lance remembered rather belatedly that Keith was deaf. It was truly amazing how many times Lance forgot that piece of information. He really astounded himself, sometimes. 

 

_Sorry. What the hell do you want? It better be good to make up for interrupting my little reminiscence there._

 

‘You know what? I don’t even _want_ to know what you were thinking about,’ Keith sniffed, rubbing at his face with the towel slung around his neck. 

 

_Oh, it’s alright - you were there too, so you know it pretty well._ Lance couldn’t hold back the wink he sent flying at Keith. He also couldn’t hold back the howl of laughter at the look of utter horror on Keith’s face as it rapidly turned from pale to cherry red. He felt his own face heat up in response, memories of their lips crashing together once again invading his brain. He shook his head, trying to dispel them - it wasn’t the time to let his imagination run away from him. _What did you want?_ He asked again once Keith had calmed down enough to sit by his side.

 

Lance’s skin prickled pleasantly as Keith’s knee came to rest against his own. 

 

‘W-well.. I was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat.. maybe..’

 

_Why the stuttering?_

 

‘I’m _not_ stuttering!’ Keith yelled, turning to shout into Lance’s face. Lance snickered at the fresh blush dusting Keith’s cheeks. ‘I just.. fuck it. I meant as a date. I wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date with me. To get food. Right now,’ he stared at Lance, eyes disarmingly wide and innocent. He blinked twice, owlishly boring right into Lance’s heart. 

 

‘Oh..’

 

‘Oh? What the hell kind of response is ‘oh’?!’ Keith snapped, his head jumping backwards in shock. ‘U-unless.. oh, god.. L-Lance I just thought - I mean, I guess I figured after that, that maybe you’d wanna..-‘

 

_Woah, woah, woah, slow down, Keith!_ Lance signed, stretching awkwardly to wrap his leg over Keith’s own in lieu of a hand - it was difficult to brace someone comfortingly when you used your hands to communicate. _Of course I wanna go on a date with you! What are you, mad?! Do you really think I’d kiss you like that and confess my undying love for you only to say I don’t wanna date you?_ He smiled obscenely as he watched Keith’s face turn from disparaging to hopeful in the span of three seconds. However, it was shortly followed by a look of such sheepish awkwardness that Lance’s heart squeezed in a way that he was sure couldn’t have been healthy. 

 

‘Y-yeah.. I guess that would have been a bit weird. Sorry,’ he scratched the side of his face, glancing up at Lance through his eyelashes. 

 

_You think? I only said ‘oh’ ‘cause it kinda took my by surprise, you know? I mean.. I’m feeling kinda shy about this whole thing too. Obviously you’re not the first person I’ve dated, but, well.. you are the first person I’ve felt like this about. The first person I’ve wanted to.. I dunno, I can’t find the words. But you’re definitely the first person I’ve loved._

 

Lance, occupied by his confession, entirely missed the moment Keith’s face fell hard into a look of despair. It was only when he looked up at the end, searching for some kind of validation that he noticed, and his heart lurched painfully. 

 

_Keith?! Keith - what’s wrong?_

 

’N-no, no it’s.. it’s nothing, Lance.. don’t worry about it-‘

 

_Don’t give me that bullshit, you wannabe-emo-cryptid-freak. Spill. Now._

 

‘Did you.. seriously just call me a ‘wannabe-emo-cryptid-freak’..?’ Keith’s voice expressed the level of shock the insult had sent his brain into. All Lance did was nod and motion for him to get confessing. ‘Ugh. Fine. But.. don’t laugh, okay? I don’t usually advertise this about myself, but I guess under the circumstances, it _is_ kinda relevant. I..’ve not ever dated anyone before.. like, ever..’

 

Lance stared. He wasn't entirely sure he hadn't just invented that whole statement, until he caught sight of the twitch by Keith’s eye. He was anxious, and apparently telling the truth. 

 

_Like.. not even in high school?_ Keith shook his head. _Middle school?!_

 

‘Lance - I told you, I’ve never dated anyone. Never _been on_ a date. Not once,’

 

_How?!_

 

Keith snickered slightly, rubbing his nose. ‘I guess.. it just never really came up? Like, interests and stuff. I didn’t even have a clue I was into guys until I met you, and before that no girl ever caught my attention. And to be honest, before I went deaf I was so consumed by rugby that nothing else really mattered. Then _after_ I went deaf.. well, I kinda had bigger concerns, you know?’

 

Lance could understand that. It made sense that with so many other things going on, relationships could have fallen by the way side. However, one small fact did stick out in his mind. _Does.. that mean.. that I’m the first person you’ve ever been interested in?_ He couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face as Keith squirmed beneath his gaze. Keith just nodded, turning his face away.

 

‘Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not like I _wanted_ to be interested in an emotionally repressed idiot like you,’

 

_I’m the emotionally repressed one?! Keith - you punched a wall ‘cause you forgot how to sing!_

 

‘It was traumatic!’

 

They sighed in unison, sinking back into the comfort of the couch. 

 

_But seriously.._ Lance signed after a moment, waving his hands under Keith’s face to get his attention. _I’m the only person you’ve ever fancied? I can’t.. even begin to tell you how awesome that is.._

 

‘Really? You don’t think it’s weird?’

 

Lance shook his head. _Why would I?_

 

‘’Cause.. you do realise that makes me a virgin, right?’

 

Every ounce of blood in Lance’s body seemed to rush to his cheeks at the exact same moment, and not for the first time, he was thankful that Keith was deaf as an inhumanly high squeal made its way out of his throat. 

 

‘What? Had you _not_ thought of that?’ Keith asked, leaning forwards a little with a single eyebrow raised into his damp hairline. His _alluringly_ damp hairline, Lance noticed with a whimper. He shook his head, desperate to regain control of his vocal chords. ‘Well, I am. I mean, can’t really have sex with anyone if you’ve never been interested before, huh?’

 

Lance did his best not to focus on the word ‘before’, but he had a feeling that he was failing miserably. The thought that someone who looked like _Keith_ could make it to twenty two and still be a virgin was.. well, Lance was kind of excited about the idea, but it still boggled his mind. He just couldn’t understand how Keith hadn’t had hoards of guys and girls alike trying to pin him down. 

 

‘Are you.. gonna say anything anytime soon?’ Keith’s voice pulled Lance back to reality with a sharp thump, and he turned frantically to face him, cheeks still blazing against his tan skin. 

 

_Hoo boy.. do you ever know how to fluster a guy.._

 

Keith blinked at him before the implication of Lance’s statement seemed to dawn on him. Then, Lance regretted everything in his life as a grin so smug it could corrupt God spread across Keith’s mouth. ‘Oh, I ‘flustered’ you, did I?’

 

Lance gulped as Keith moved closer to him, his hand travelling over his thigh. 

 

‘I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,’ his fingers curled slightly, tickling the flesh on the inside of his leg far, _far_ too high up. 

 

‘Woah, okay STOP!’ Lance was on his feet before he could think. ‘Time out, Mr. We are _not_ playing that game, alright? I _cannot_ -‘ he swiped his hands across his chest for emphasis. ‘-control myself if you’re gonna be a little shit, and I am not, under _any_ circumstances rushing this if you’ve never done it before -‘

 

A finger pressed against his lips, shushing him immediately. Blinking, he looked down into Keith’s confusingly irritated eyes. He quirked his eyebrow in question. 

 

‘Lance. How many times do I have to tell you? _I. Can’t. Understand. You. When. You. Talk. That. Fast.’_

 

Damn. Of course. Keith = deaf. How had he forgotten again so quickly? Although, if he were honest with himself, he did know the answer to that question. He was just currently doing his best to not think about said answer incase he felt himself losing control again. Breathing hard, he lowered himself back down onto the couch, and motioned for Keith to do the same before he raised his hands and began to translate - with just a _few_ alterations.

 

_All I said was that I’m not rushing this with you, Keith. And I know you were just teasing, but damn.. maybe at least wait until your hair’s dry to do that? You look way too good with it all… dripping. Or until you’re ready for a little bit more than.. well, earlier._

 

‘Lance.. I’m not-‘ he cut himself short, turning his face abruptly away, hand covering his mouth. Lance waited patiently, knowing it was probably a sensitive topic for him, but he couldn’t deny the rapid beating of his heart behind his ribs. Sighing, Keith turned back to look him in the eye. ‘I’m not trying to ‘rush’, okay? I just.. wanted to tease you a little. If I had’ve known it would _actually_ make you uncomfortable, I would have stopped sooner. And for the record - you drive me crazy. Honestly, it’s not gonna take me long to like, relax,’ 

 

_Oh god, don’t say that.. I’m seriously gonna lose my shit if you don’t give me a break soon.._ He groaned miserably, flopping back as far as the couch would allow. It was truly painful, knowing that soon enough Keith was going to be all _his._

 

‘Sorry,’ Keith laughed, leaning back into him, his face resting against his chest. ‘..This is weird..’ he said after a moment, eyeing Lance from the side. Lance huffed, nodding. 

 

_Tell me about it._ He sighed, careful to keep his hands in Keith’s line of sight. _This morning we weren’t even talking, and now we’re.. cuddling.. oh! Speaking of which -_ He moved upright, wanting to face him. _Are you.. still leaving?_

 

‘Shit, I am _so_ sorry I didn’t bring that up!’ Keith yelled, reaching his hands out to grab hold of Lance’s knees. ‘No - no I am _not_ leaving, not _ever,_ okay? I was just.. I was angry and.. well, impulsive would be a good way to describe what I was, I guess. I’m not leaving. I’ll skype Shiro this evening and let him know I’m staying here,’

 

_Thank god.._ Lance ducked his head down onto his chin, letting the relief wash over him like a balm. _I’ve never been so scared of something in my life. And holy shit this has been a LOT of emotional bullshit we’ve thrown at each other today.._

 

‘You’re telling me,’ Keith laughed, stifling a yawn. He wasn’t good at sharing, and it was exhausting him. ‘How about we call it a day on the whole ‘talking’ thing, and go get some food before I starve to death?’

 

_Bit dramatic, Mullet-Head, but I dig it._

 

‘You know, I was really hoping that the whole ‘Mullet-Head’ thing would end after the eating face thing, but I guess not..’ he sighed, resigning himself to his very much self-inflicted fate. 

 

Lance just grinned and pulled him to his feet. 

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

It did not take Lance long to realise that there were a few issues with dating someone who was deaf. He didn’t mind in the least - if anything, he found it endearing how Keith relied on him in public to be his ears - but he also couldn’t deny that it was mildly infuriating that they couldn’t hold hands and talk at the same time. Keith could talk at _him,_ but it always became a very one sided conversation - something that Lance was _not okay with at all._

 

It helped a bit that Keith was not a particularly showy person - his level of patience with PDA rivalled Pidge’s - but that only stretched so far when Lance wanted to show off the fact that he had managed to snag someone as attractive as Keith. To most people, it probably looked as though they were just close friends. 

 

Lance had _tried_ solving the problem by rather obviously laying his foot across Keith’s knee beneath the table in their booth, but had very quickly been shoved off by Keith, along with a snippy request to keep his ‘dirty boots’ to himself. 

 

_Well how the hell am I supposed to show everyone you’re mine, then?!_ He had snapped, throwing his face into the mother of all pouts to accentuate his meaning. Keith had just stared at him gone out for a moment before replying that he wasn’t.

 

‘Who the hell cares whether we’re together or not?’ he had demanded, digging his fork a little too aggressively into his pile of chips. ‘The only people who matter are us. And anyway.. I dunno if I’m ready to come out yet..’

 

That had sparked a whole new emotionally draining debate, and Lance had been eternally thankful when it had ended. They had settled - or _Keith_ had settled, and Lance had reluctantly agreed - on keeping it quiet for a little while, at least until Keith was sure he was comfortable. 

 

Now, sitting across from each other in a little cafe they had found on the edge of campus having filled their stomachs at the student union, Lance contented himself with their feet being entwined together beneath the table. It was subtler than he would have liked, but it was enough. So long as he had some kind of physical reassurance that they _were_ actually together, he could live with any profoundly lacking PDA. 

 

_When do you think you’ll go back into the studio?_ Lance asked, taking Keith somewhat by surprise as he raised his coffee cup to his lips. Humming, he thought about it for a moment.

 

‘I’m not sure,’ he said, casting his eyes over to the specials board by the counter arbitrarily. ‘I thought I might be ready to go back in this week, but to be honest, I don’t really know yet. Like, I know it’ll have been cleaned up and everything, but I still can’t help but be reluctant..’

 

_I get it, it’s gonna be tough._ Lance reassured, rubbing his foot up and down Keith’s calf comfortingly. _You were attacked there -that’s gotta be weird for you._

 

‘It’s not just that.. It’s - well, I keep thinking it’s my fault that everyone’s work got destroyed. I guess I just don’t really wanna see everyone’s faces when I walk in,’

 

_What the hell? Keith - it’s not your fault At. All. Okay? You did nothing wrong._

 

‘I know that..’ Keith huffed, dropping his cup a little heavily onto the table. ‘I know it wasn’t my fault I was attacked.. but.. c’mon, Lance. Do you really think there’s no one in there that’ll blame me even a little bit for their work being ruined?’

 

_I know there isn’t, idiot. Last time I was in there everyone was just worried about you. Honestly, this is the most popular I’ve ever been. Really, you should be thankful - you’ve increased my popularity a shit tonne._

 

Keith snickered, scooting out a hand to wrap around Lance’s little finger as he lowered his hands back to the table top. ‘Well, I’m so glad that my horrible assault was so helpful to you in your pursuit of fame and fortune,’

 

_The fortune part’s still lacking a bit - I know I shouldn’t say this, but that punching bag was HELLA expensive - so if you wanna you know, come out and write a best selling book or something, I’d be all for it._

 

‘Did you seriously just spell out ‘hella’?’ 

 

Lance nodded sagely. _Yes. Yes I did. What? You wanna judge, Mr. I’m-a-reject-from-the-eighties?_

 

‘For the last time - _it’s not a mullet!’_

 

_Sure, whatever you have to tell yourself so you can sleep at night._

 

Keith snorted hard, folding his arms over his chest. ‘I can’t believe you,’ he sighed, refusing to look at Lance as he waved his hands beneath Keith’s face, asking for attention. That, Lance had found, was yet another flaw to dating Keith - it was all too easy for Keith to ignore him. Deciding that enough was enough, he reached across the table a plucked Keith’s mug from where it sat, watching in glee as Keith darted after it. ‘Hey - give that back!’ 

 

Lance just shook his head. 

 

‘Seriously, Lance - give me back my coffee, I need it!’ He reached forwards desperately, fingertips falling centimetres short from the rim of the cup. ‘Asshole!’

 

‘Jeez, don’t yell so loud,’ Lance grinned, moving his lips slowly. ‘There are children around!’ He laughed as Keith’s face fell and whipped around to check the vicinity, cheeks tinting red. 

 

‘There aren’t any kids, you liar, now give me my coffee back!’ 

 

Relenting, Lance finally placed it back into Keith’s hands, a small fond smile making its way onto his face as he watched Keith sigh in relief and take a heavy sip.

 

_What’s got you so desperate for caffeine?_

 

‘Well, if you hadn’t been such a douche over the last week, you’d probably know already,’ Keith muttered, glaring darkly from beneath his lashes. Lance stuttered, rolling his eyes once he had recovered enough to feel irritated.

 

_Seriously? Back to that AGAIN?_

 

Keith quirked an eyebrow, but grumbling, he gave in. ‘Fine. I haven’t been sleeping well. We were fighting, and I’ve been having nightmares a lot recently, so I’ve just been struggling to feel rested,’

 

_Nightmares? Of the attack?_ Lance’s heart quickened in pace, but in a decidedly less pleasant way than Keith usually elicited. But when Keith shook his head, the pace slowed - marginally, but any improvement was welcomed. _Then what?_

 

‘..The car crash,’

 

Oh. Lance hadn’t been expecting that. The only times he had ever heard Keith mention it were when Shiro instigated a conversation, and despite himself, Lance had allowed the information to slip to the back of his mind. 

 

‘It’s nothing new,’ Keith said after a moment, replacing his cup on the table top. His fingers twitched, seemingly searching. ‘I used to get them all the time.. every night. They’re not anything special, really, just a replay, I guess. Like, what me and Shiro were talking about before it happened, when I came to with the firefighters trying to cut me out, that kinda thing, really but.. I dunno. I guess ‘cause I hadn’t had one in a while, I had kinda hoped they’d stopped, and it just took me by surprise? Just.. pushed me back a bit, I guess,’

 

_Why did you have one now when you haven’t in so long?_ Lance asked once Keith had looked up. _Do you know?_ To his surprise, Keith nodded.

 

‘’Cause of you,’

 

Lance blinked. 

 

‘I don’t mean that in a bad way, like ‘it’s your fault ‘cause we were fighting’ kinda way, but rather.. I stopped having them after I met you, and I guess ‘cause we weren’t doing great they started again,’

 

_That kinda sounds like my fault.._ His eyes dropped to the table top, eyebrows pinching together painfully. But a pair of hands wrapping around his pulled his gaze back up, and he was met with Keith’s purple eyes mere inches from his. 

 

‘That’s not true, okay? I told you - they stopped after I met you. Don’t ask me why - I don’t wanna think about it, it’s _way_ too soppy - they just did. So shut up and stop with the whole pity-party-for-one thing, alright?’ 

 

Lance nodded weakly, mustering a smile from the depths of his stomach. He wasn’t sure how Keith did it - managing to be simultaneously loving and rude - but strangely, it helped improve Lance’s mood tenfold. It made him smile in a way that it probably shouldn’t have done. Maybe he was just a sucker of the whole ‘death-to-emotions’ thing Keith seemed to have going on. 

 

‘Good. Now, how about we get outta here? There’s a cool art shop I found a couple days ago that sells some neat photography shit,’

 

_Did you seriously just say ‘neat’?_ Lance winked, disentangling his hands from Keith’s and allowing himself to return to his usual irritating bravado as easily as slipping on his coat. 

 

‘Quiznaking hell, can you just like, _not_ be a dick for once?’ Keith snapped, shoving himself to his feet without any real anger. ‘Wait here - I gotta pee,’ 

 

‘I’m pretty sure you used that word wrong!’ Lance called after him - he knew fully well that Keith wouldn’t have any idea he had spoken, but he felt the need to alert the other patrons to Keith’s mental incapacities all the same. He smirked, satisfied - for the first time, he didn’t feel guilty as he watched Keith’s retreating back weave through the thin crowd gathered around the counter, admiring the way his clothes hugged his figure perfectly. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forget how lucky he was when he looked at Keith. 

 

He decided to let his mind wander further down that path, picturing all the things he had been afraid to up until that morning. Hand holding, sharing scarfs in winter, kissing cold-tipped noses, movie nights under a single blanket. He didn’t get far down the list when a voice pulled him from his imaginings, rubbing the gentle smile from his face like a slap.

 

‘Lance?’

 

Lance turned, eyes boring wide as his brain refused to catch up with what he had heard. There was no way. He wouldn’t believe it -

 

‘Oh my god, it _is_ you!’

 

Lance felt the blood drain from his face, every nerve in his body tingling in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He couldn’t believe it - didn’t _want_ to believe it - but there he was, standing against the back of Lance’s chair, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes sparkling with nauseating familiarity. Arlo. 

 

‘You know, I _heard_ you were going to this college, but I didn’t really believe it! It’s _so hard_ to get in here, you must have worked your ass off,’ Arlo’s grin seemed to twinkle, one eyebrow raising far into his hairline. 

 

‘Wh..- y-yeah.. I put in a lot of hours working on my portfolio.’ Lance’s mouth was dry, achingly so. He rubbed the back of his neck, a tingle seeping up his spine. 

 

‘God, I can _imagine!_ You always did struggle with that, didn’t you? Putting in the work. It was such a shame to see you miss out on so many opportunities - I knew if you just put in a little more effort you’d have done _great,_ ’ 

 

A bolt of anger shot through Lance’s brain, momentarily shrouding everything in a metaphorical red. He would have acted on it, told Arlo where to shove his degradation, but something held him back, something primal that he had thought he was long rid of. Instead, he smiled sheepishly, pushing himself further down into his chair. Arlo smiled darkly, leaning closer.

 

‘It really is great to see you again, Lance,’ he said, voice thick and meaningful. One hand reach out to hold the back of Lance’s chair, brushing his arm softly. Lance wanted nothing more than to shove it away, but once again he found himself incapable of moving. ‘I’ve got friends here so I come by all the time. When I heard you were here, I looked out for you. I even dropped you a few texts, but I didn’t get a reply,’

 

‘I, uh.. changed my phone,’ Lance told him weakly, eyes flickering back and forth between Arlo and the direction he watched Keith walk away. ’T-the old one, uh.. broke. Figured I’d get a new number too,’

 

‘ _Really.._ Yeah, I can totally see you breaking a phone. You always were such a _klutz!_ Remember when we took that weekend off? Went over to Philadelphia? _Man!_ I mean, who the hell falls down two flights of stairs, huh?’ Arlo laughed, eyes narrowed, almost as though to crush any light that might have worked its way up into the brown abyss. Lance blinked, mind begging him not to remember. 

 

He hadn’t thought of it the way Arlo seemed to remember it. He had only thought of hands on his shoulders, rough words breaking against the walls of his too-weak defences. 

 

‘Yeah.. haha.. silly me,’ he said regardless, looking towards the bathrooms again as though he could will Keith to return faster. 

 

‘You always were so silly.. remember how you asked me out? You nearly poured that coffee all over yourself,’ 

 

Lance didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to revisit that day. It had been so happy at first, the best thing to happen to Lance in all of his life. But things never stayed that way for long, and boy had Lance learned that the hard way. He dared a glance up at Arlo’s face again, struggling for an answer when he heard another voice call his name, this one bringing with it a wave of warmth so welcome he thought he might have melted right into it were it not for the way Arlo’s face crumpled into a look Lance knew all too well.

 

‘Lance?’ Keith asked, eyes darting back and forth from one Cuban face to another. ‘What’s going on?’ 

 

_‘Nothing, don’t worry. You ready to go?’_ He asked as he rose from he table towards Keith, unable to place why he felt the need to speak out loud for Arlo’s benefit. Keith nodded, unsure, his eyebrows pulled tight into the centre of his face. 

 

‘Hey, who’s this?’ Arlo asked, taking a step forwards into their space. Keith’s eyes narrowed as Lance flinched backwards, flicking back to Arlo. 

 

_‘O-oh, this is - this is Keith, he’s -‘_

 

‘I’m his boyfriend,’ Keith’s voice cut through the air like a hot knife, jolting Lance into a free fall both wonderful and dark at the same time. But Arlo’s trite laugh only served to lessen the wonder that had been Keith’s admittance. ‘and who the hell are you?’ Keith’s arm wrapped around Lance’s waist, pulling him closer as he stared hard into Arlo’s face. 

 

‘The name’s Arlo.’ He held a hand out, snickering as Keith refused to take it. ‘I’m Lance’s _ex,_ ’

 

_‘Keith, c’mon - you said you wanted to show me that art shop?’_ Lance’s desperate attempt to end the conversation stuttered to close as Arlo took another step closer, reaching out to brush a finger over the back of Lance’s still outstretched hand.

 

‘What’s with the crazy gestures, Lance? I never took you as one to be into miming,’ 

 

‘What did he -?’ 

 

‘It’s sign language. He’s - Keith’s - deaf,’ Lance interrupted, cutting Keith’s question short. He felt his cheeks heat up in guilt - he hadn’t even interpreted what he had said. Arlo was already crawling his way back into Lance’s mind. 

 

‘Oh _really?!_ God, taking on a project, are you? You always wanted to _fix_ things,’

 

‘Don’t say that! There’s nothing to fix -!’

 

‘Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on here before I lose it?!’ Keith’s voice cut through the tension building inside Lance, almost like a hard shove to the back of the face. 

 

_Shit, sorry, Keith. Honestly, it doesn’t matter - I’ll explain it all later._ He signed, begging Keith silently with his eyes to just let it drop. Something in Keith’s face seemed to soften as he pulled his arm back from Lance’s waist to sign his own response. 

 

_Okay, Lance - I trust you. Whatever’s going on here can wait, let’s just get outta here, yeah? Something about this guy doesn’t sit right with me._

 

‘Well, now _I_ feel really left out,’ Arlo smiled, running a hand through his hair - a shade so similar to Lance’s own it made him want to be sick. ‘It’s not really fair to stand there having your own conversation and leaving me out, now, is it?’

 

‘Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t care,’ Keith said, raising an eyebrow at Arlo once Lance had finished translating. ‘Got a problem with it, then you can always enrol in a class and learn some ASL if you want. Either that, or you could learn it like Lance did - although, he’s so smart, I doubt you could keep up,’

 

Arlo’s face splitting into a look of vivid fury was something Lance didn’t think he would ever forget, but before he could fear the consequences, Keith’s arm was back around his waist and pulling him from the cafe. 

 

Before they could make it through the door, a deeply tanned hand fell to rest against Keith’s free wrist, pulling him to turn around. 

 

‘Nice bruises,’ he said, lips slow, voice too loud and inconsiderate against the quiet backdrop of the cafe. Keith’s only response was to raise a finger to the still yellowing marks around his left eye. 

 

Without a word, he turned away and let the door swing shut between them, arm still tightly wrapped around Lance’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who the fuck is Arlo?! I dunno about you guys, but I think I agree with Keith on this one - Arlo can get stuffed. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on Tumblr and we can chat about Klance! I promise I don't bite https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith meets one or two more Cubans than he had counted on, and somehow they all have more energy than even Lance..?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all SO much for getting this fic to over 1700 views! I seriously cannot believe how crazy that is! 
> 
> Just a couple things today before I let y'all lose on the Klance, and first is a small apology (well, technically two, but I'm getting to that), and that's for the state of my writing at the minute. I'm tired. As FUCK. And apparently, that means both my ability to type and form coherent sentences has flown out the window (seriously, it took nearly five minutes to type that sentence.. please send help). I edited the fuck outta this chapter, so I don't think my sleepiness has affected the story, but if it has, and my writing isn't as good as usual, please let me know and I'll down a couple red bulls and fix it all! (Goddamned uni, eating all my energy..)
> 
> Second apology may also actually be a good thing - this bit is now gonna be two chapters. Originally I planned on having this whole bit as one chapter, but as per usual it got away from me slightly, and would have ended up HUGE, so I split it and now here we are. Like I said before, I'm absolutely knackered thanks to my six-day-working-weeks at the minute, but I'll try my best to get the second half written and up over the next couple days so we can get back to the regularly scheduled angst fest :)
> 
> As always, comments and kudos make me the happiest person in the world, and I love you all for reading! Enjoy ~ !

‘ _What?!_ Lance! _Get the hell back here!’_

 

Keith’s voice fell on ironically deaf ears as he watched Lance run away, back retreating behind the wall separating the living room from Lance’s kitchen. It was early on Saturday morning, birds still chirping outside in the mid October sun, and Keith was about ready to commit homicide. 

 

Lance’s parents were coming to town. In two hours. Along with a whole hoard of his siblings and his uncle and aunt. Keith was _not_ prepared.

 

‘You told me they wouldn’t be coming until tomorrow!’ 

 

When Lance’s face didn’t appear back from the depths of the kitchen, Keith growled in the utmost anger and flopped himself down onto Lance’s couch, hands balling into furious fists against the upholstery. This had not been the plan. He was supposed to have had yet another day to mentally prepare himself for the horror of meeting his brand new - _first,_ his brain helpfully reminded him - boyfriend’s parents, and figure out how the hell he was going to face it. And yet there he was, still pyjama-clad and bed-haired, waiting on their imminent arrival. If he had have known, he at the very least wouldn’t have stayed at Lance’s apartment the night before. The mere thought of Lance’s parents walking into the flat and seeing Keith’s toothbrush in the bathroom, his clothes in the draw, was enough to draw a sound that he assumed was akin to a dying animal from his lips. They were going to think he was a floozy. 

 

That was not the kind of first impression he had been aiming to make. 

 

Kneading the palms of his hands into his eyes, he growled again, only lowering his arms as he felt the sensation of two hands wrapping around his shoulders. Looking up, he was met by Lance’s sheepishly pleased face. He glared, distinctly unimpressed. 

 

_Aw man, don’t look at me like that!_ Lance signed, letting go of Keith’s arms. _I would have told you sooner, but you looked so cute when you were asleep and I couldn’t bare to wake you!_

 

‘Do _not_ put that shit on me, Lance! Calling me cute won’t get you out of this! And anyway-! I’m not _cute!_ There are _so many_ words you could have used that would have been better than _‘cute’!_ ’

 

_Oh really?_ Lance blinked innocently, butter-wouldn’t-melt grin spreading over his face. _Like what? Handsome? Attractive? Blindingly hot? Any of those working for you?_

 

‘God, shut your mouth, Lance - I’m _pissed_ at you. Let me be angry!’

 

Lance looked as though he laughed, and dropped onto the couch by Keith’s side, legs sliding heavily over Keith’s knees as he snuggled into his ribs. _Okay, okay, I’m sorry._ He signed, reaching his hands out to make sure that Keith couldn’t turn his face away from them. _I honestly did want to tell you earlier, but you were sleeping so well. You’ve finally stopped looking like a walking dead person, and I didn’t want to interrupt that. Guys need their beauty sleep too, you know?_

 

Keith huffed dismissively, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Not all guys are prima-donnas like you, Lance,’

 

_Hey! Do not insult my beauty regime!_

‘You wear face masks. Unironically,’

 

_…How are you supposed to wear a face mask ironically?_

 

‘Oh shut _up!’_

 

Once again, Lance looked as though he laughed, and Keith reluctantly felt his anger dissipate. He had to admit that Lance’s reasoning had been quite considerate - it was true that Keith was finally starting to sleep comfortably again, and he appreciated the fact that Lance had caught on. But it still did not change the fact that it left him in a decidedly precarious position. Sighing, he rubbed his face. 

 

‘So,’ he said, turning to look Lance in the eye, regretting it mildly as he caught the mischievous gleam sparkling along the surface. ‘what the hell am I supposed to wear, huh? I had an outfit all planned out - do _not_ say _anything,_ Lance. I’m nervous. I want them to like me - but that’s back at my place, and no way am I going all the way back just to change and leg it back over here again. Especially seeing as I’d essentially be doing the walk of shame,’

 

_Gotta have been laid for it to count as the walk of shame, Keith.._

 

‘Shut _up!’_ Keith’s hand caught Lance around the back of his head, hard, drawing what looked like a yell from his face. He smirked; Lance deserved it for that one. ‘You were the one who said we weren’t gonna rush this! Ugh - we’re getting off track. Now _help me._ What am I gonna wear?’

 

Lance seemed to consider it for a moment before his eyes brightened, mouth breaking into a grin. 

 

‘What?’ Keith asked, tilting his head. ‘Thought of something?’

 

_Nope!_ Keith didn’t follow. _I’m colourblind, remember!_

 

Of course. How could he forget?

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

It took the better part of forty minutes rummaging through their combined clothing collection before Keith finally settled on an outfit. Wearing a borrowed brown t-shirt from Lance, he pulled on a pair of dark green jeans, black boots and his leather jacket, before standing in front of the mirror with a frown. It was comfortable, sure, but did it scream ‘I-am-a-good-choice-for-your-son’ comfortable? He couldn’t help but think that maybe it rather screamed reprobate, making him look like someone inclined to spend far too much time frequenting bars and getting into fights behind them. But then again, so did the majority of his wardrobe, and it wasn’t like the sentiment wasn’t _true.._ much of his teenage years _had_ been spent taking full advantage of his fake I.D. and quick fists, after all. 

 

He brushed the thought off. That wasn’t the correct way to be thinking right before meeting Lance’s parents. He was supposed to present as dependable. _Responsible._ Not delinquent-in-hiding. 

 

‘What do you think?’ He asked, turning to face Lance who had positioned himself on the end of his bed ten minutes into Keith’s wardrobe dilemma, and had since dissolved completely into his phone. 

 

_Looks great!_ He gave a thumbs up for added emphasis, but it only drew a wry look from Keith in response. Lance had signed the exact same thing at every outfit he had tried on. He told him so. _Well that’s ‘cause they all_ did _look great, Keith! Seriously, stop stressing so much - they’re gonna love you._ He signed, standing up to wrap his arms around Keith’s waist once he was done. Keith just huffed and turned to look back into the mirror, glowering at Lance’s reflection behind him.

 

‘How do you know that? They might hate me. They might think you’d be better off with someone who wasn’t kinda defective,’ he gave a sardonic point to the white orb fit snugly into his ear. 

 

‘Yeah, they might, but they… think you could join… freak show… earn me… money,’ Lance grinned. Keith quirked his eyebrow - he knew Lance had spoken as slowly as he could, but the fact that his chin had been leaning on Keith’s shoulder had mooted the effort. His words were garbled.

 

‘So.. I’m pretty sure you just said something about me joining a freak show, but I’m _also_ like, ninety eight percent positive your parents would _not_ support you dating someone working in a cabinet of curiosities, Lance..’

 

_…not.. cabinet of… works, Keit-_

 

‘Okay, yeah this whole communication-hugging-fest thing ain’t working,’ he snapped, wriggling in Lance’s arms until he had turned to face him. ‘I can’t tell what the hell you just tried to sign. In case you forgot, mirrors kinda _reflect_ things. You know.. they make them _backwards,’_

 

_Okay, asshat._ Lance quipped once he had finally deigned to let go of Keith in order to sign to him properly. _Jeez, can’t a guy be nice and snuggle his boyfriend once in every while?_

 

Keith’s face dropped into a pout immediately, and he folded his arms across his chest. It wasn’t like he didn’t _want_ to hug Lance - he just hadn’t figured out a way to do it mid conversation yet. 

 

_But on what you were saying before - they already know you’re deaf, and they couldn’t care less about me dating you because of that. If I’m happy, they are too - that’s all that matters to them. They just want me to be with someone that appreciates me. Which you DO._

 

‘Yeah..’ he sighed, rubbing the side of his face. The bruising had gone down considerably since the beginning of the week, the fading blue of Monday having morphed into an ugly yellow over the proceeding four days, but it still tingled irritably whenever Keith caught the skin beneath his nails. He let his mind flicker back to Monday, prompted by Lance’s words. 

 

Arlo. Something about the guy had made Keith’s skin crawl. Perhaps it was the way he had looked at Lance, the way Lance had physically shied away from him. But with Keith unable to tell what either Cuban had said throughout the majority of the conversation, he had nothing solid to back up his theory. 

 

All he had to go on was the fact that Arlo was Lance’s ex, and that meant they had some kind of history together. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure why, but he didn’t like that. He didn’t like that Arlo had known Lance in a way that Keith still hadn’t. Perhaps first.. 

 

No. He wasn’t going think about that today. He wasn’t going to let it ruin the fact that Lance was introducing him to his parents, was standing there in front of him with a grin so wide it could have swallowed the Eiffel Tower whole. It was their day, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to enjoy it. Forcing a smile, he shuffled forwards until his head rested against Lance’s chest, fingers buried in his deep red top. He had asked Keith to pick it out specially for him, claiming that he wanted to wear Keith’s favourite colour even if he couldn’t tell what it looked like. 

 

He was going to focus on that, not the way the thought of Arlo’s eyes on Lance had made his gut clench like it was the end of days. 

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

‘Oh, cariño, you look so good! I haven’t seen your face in forever, chico - did you lose weight?! You’re so _skinny!’_

 

Lance laughed heavily as his mother’s arms wrapped their way around his neck in a hug that was almost suffocating. Burrowing his nose in her shirt, he let himself breathe in her scent for a moment, swimming in the smell of home. He hadn’t been aware of quite how much he had missed it. ‘Mamá, you’re fussing,’ he smiled, patting her back as he extricated himself from the hug. His bones ached, but he didn’t really mind - his mamá’s hugs were one of the best things in his world. 

 

More hugs followed after that - first his father, patting his back roughly as he ruffled his hair, then his aunt and uncle taking it in turns to coo over his appearance, and finally his two brothers and younger sister. _Those_ hugs could have been considered more violent than welcoming, but he would take that any day. He had missed them. 

 

But what _really_ made him smile was the way they all flocked around Keith once Lance had been suitably embarrassed. Standing awkwardly back from the doorway, Keith had soon been assaulted by a Mamá McClain hug of his own, his arms flailing uselessly as his face dissolved into a look of such desperation that Lance thought his own face might rip from laughing. Keith was _not_ a hugger. In fact, Lance doubted that Keith had ever willingly hugged anyone aside from Lance himself in his entire life. And yet there he was, engulfed in the never-ending embrace of seven equally affection-hungry Cubans. 

 

He choked on spit as Keith shot him a glare full of desperate begging, but waved his hand dismissively. There was no way in hell that Lance was going to miss out on the opportunity to see Keith suffer so spectacularly. So instead, he folded his arms over his chest and watched as his family laid hand after hand all over Keith’s chest and shoulders, ruffling his hair - and _floofing_ it, he observed to his eternal delight - and adjusting his clothing. All the while, they spoke arbitrary praises, commenting on Keith’s face and clothes and _‘oh look how pretty he is!’ ‘don’t his eyes just sparkle in the light so nicely?’ ‘what a model you could make!’_

 

Only when Keith started making a low keening sound in the back of his throat did Lance finally deign to step in, deftly separating his relatives from his distinctly floundering boyfriend just long enough to once again remind them that Keith was, in fact, deaf as a veritable doornail. That didn’t stop their fussing for long though, as soon enough they rounded on him, begging him to translate their endless praise so that Keith could fully appreciate the wonder that was his face. Lance just rolled his eyes, something akin to resignation fluttering behind his eyelids. Really, he should have known how his family would react to seeing someone that looked like Keith standing by Lance’s side. But if he were honest, it made him happy. They liked Keith, and their approval meant the world to him. 

 

‘¡Ustedes, para por favor! ¡Detender!’ He said, laughing as he did his best to remove his sisters hands from around Keith’s waist. She had, apparently, decided that Keith’s interest in her older brother was not a good enough excuse to refrain from flirting a little herself. ‘Give him some space, jeez!’

 

‘Oh, but cariño, you never told us that he was so pretty!’ his mamá crooned, trying in vain to once again descend down upon Keith’s head, before Lance - in a move that Keith would _not_ have described as nearing super-human - caught her by the back of her shirt and tugged her away.

 

‘Oh no! You are not attacking him again, mamá, you gotta let him breathe a second, okay? He’s not, you know, great with people,’

 

‘What, and he puts up with you?’ his brother smirked, waggling his eyebrows as he dared Lance with his eyes to challenge him. Lance would have willingly obliged if it hadn’t been for the small cough that cut the group silent. Turning, Lance eyed Keith curiously as he watched him shift his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

 

‘Uh, Lance?’ he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching in a way that made Lance’s heart clench. ‘I, uh.. I have no idea what anyone’s saying.. could you.. maybe translate for me?’

 

‘Oh my god!’ Lance slapped his face so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if he had left bruise marks. ‘Keith! Shit, I’m so sorr-‘ his mother’s hand cut him off as it connected painfully with the back of his head.

 

‘¡Dame fuerza! Tell me again why I raised such an idiota like you!’ she lamented, stepping past Lance to grasp Keith lovingly by the hands. Keith’s face, however, seemed to express the sentiment that the contact was not entirely appreciated. Either that, or he had once again completely missed all context of the conversation. ‘I’m so sorry, encantador, my son is being so rude!’

 

‘Mamá!’ Lance was once again forced to push his way between Keith and a far-too-touchy Cuban body. ‘I told you, he doesn’t get what you’re saying - you can’t talk that fast!’

 

‘Uh, Lance..?’

 

‘Shit! Keith, I’m so sorry!’

 

‘..I didn’t get that.. can you sign?’ 

 

Lance internally cursed his seemingly boundless ability to fuck up. 

 

_‘God, Keith, I’m so sorry - I got so caught up in what was going on, I’m completely forgot! It won’t happen again, I swear,’_

 

Keith’s face seemed to relax slightly as his eyes flashed over the signs, a small smile breaking its way onto his face. ‘It’s okay, I just.. sorry, I know it’s kinda difficult,’ he rubbed the back of his neck warily, forcing a small laugh. 

 

_‘Dude, it’s not difficult at all - I’m just an idiot, like my mamá said,’_ he grinned, trying to lessen some of the growing tension he could feel bubbling up from his relatives. A small snort from Keith seemed to work far better though, relaxing everyone down into a more comfortable stance. 

 

‘She said that?’ he asked, taking a small step closer to Lance, who nudged the palm of his hand affectionately into Keith’s side. 

 

_‘Yep - ‘idiota’. Its the Spanish for idiot,’_

 

‘You know, I never would have guessed that,’ Keith deadpanned, raising a single eyebrow as he glanced up at Lance’s face. 

 

Lance spluttered for a moment, trying his best to ignore the laughs and jeers he could hear from behind him. Why couldn’t his family just be sufficiently impressed that he knew sign language? It was impressive and he wanted them to praise him for it. A small sulk started its way from from his gut, before his uncle’s hand on his shoulder snapped him sharply back to reality.

 

‘Lance, why don’t you start by introducing us all?’

 

‘Ah! Good idea!’ He turned to smile at Keith. _‘Better pay attention Mullet-Man, you’re about to get told more names than you’ll know what to do with,’_

 

‘Oh god.. and here I thought the Mullet shit was over.. seriously, do you wanna remind me again why the hell I’m dating you?’

 

Lance just grinned and raised his hands ready to sign. 

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

From what Lance could tell, Keith had just about managed to keep up with the onslaught of names he’d had thrown at him. His sister Charo, younger brother Ali and older brother Fredo all thankfully had simple names that weren’t too complicated for Keith to remember, but his older relatives were another story entirely. His uncle and aunt - Gimoaldo and Idurre - had eventually told Keith that he could call them Jim and Ida after much faffing and confusion, while his mother Juaneta ‘just-call-me-mamá’ and his father Mauricio had settled rather reluctantly for ma’am and sir. 

 

Lance found it unceasingly endearing that Keith struggled with his family’s names, but he couldn’t deny that there _was_ a tiny part of his brain that felt bad. Keith was already finding it difficult dealing with having so many people fussing over him and all talking at once, and all the names did was add another level of stress. Lance couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars for perhaps the thousandth time that he had found it so easy to learn sign language, and at least alleviate some of the burden from Keith’s already weighted shoulders. 

 

Thankfully, his family seemed to be in the midst of collecting their abundant belongings together - whilst obviously arguing like cats, as any good family would - and had momentarily left Lance and Keith alone together to catch their breath before heading out for food. Lance took the opportunity to drop down onto the couch by Keith’s side, wrapping their legs together comfortingly.

 

_Soo.. how’d’you like them?_

 

Blinking, Keith turned his eyes away from where he had been watching Charo and Fredo bicker over a scarf to follow the pair of hands that had shoved themselves into his line of sight. He sighed heavily before slouching down against Lance’s side. ‘They’re so full of energy..’

 

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. Of course to Keith that was a problem. To any normal person energy was something to be admired, but to Keith.. it was probably comparable to a living hell. 

 

‘But they’re nice,’ he continued, a small smile making its way onto his face. ‘everyone’s so welcoming.. I’d honestly forgotten a family could be like that,’

 

_What about Shiro?_

 

Keith shifted slightly against him so that his hands were free, and lifted them up in front of Lance’s face. _Yeah, but you know what I mean - a big family. It’s just me and Shiro at home, you know? So even if we’re both rowdy or whatever it’s still pretty quiet, but I can’t imagine this lot ever letting there be a moment of silence._

 

_Just wait till you meet the rest._ Lance grinned, stroking a hand down Keith’s cheek as he groaned. 

 

_There’s more?!_

 

_Yep, I’ve got two more sisters and a whole bunch of cousins. The only reason they didn’t come is ‘cause my sisters are pissed at me right now, and my cousins just kinda do what they say._

 

_What did you do to them?_

 

Lance’s face fell slightly as a small twitch started up above his eyebrow. _Lets.. not get into that, shall we?_

 

Keith grunted in good humour, but raised an eyebrow as Lance moved away from him to glance over the back of the sofa. Turning to look, he caught sight of Mamá McClain saying something in rapid fire Spanish at Lance. Once he had settled back down, Keith turned to him, a question in his eyes.

 

_She says they’re ready to leave._ He told Keith, heaving himself up from the sofa. _Apparently all the old guys are gonna go in one car, and we’re gonna go in the other with my brothers and sister._ He held out a hand for Keith to take, pulling him to his feet. For a moment he missed the way Keith’s eyes darkened, before he heard the whine leave his throat. _What’s wrong?_

 

_Are.. are you gonna be driving us?_

 

Lance cocked his head to the side. _Uh, no? If I do you won’t have anyone to translate for you, remember?_

 

_Oh, yeah.._

 

_Keith?_

 

Keith seemed to consider it for a moment, hoping lightly on his feet. _Um.. So I know I won’t be able to communicate or anything if you drive, but I’d really appreciate it if you did, Lance. I’m.. not good with cars, if I’m honest, and I’d feel a lot safer if you drove._

 

_Not good.. with cars.. ?_ Lance thought about it, his mind flashing back to the beginning of the week. Of course. Keith had lost his hearing because of a car crash - it made perfect sense that he would be uncomfortable about the idea of a veritable stranger driving for him. _Yeah, of course I can drive, don’t worry._

 

_You’re sure?_

 

_Yep._ He smiled as widely as he could, taking a small step closer to Keith. He could feel his family’s eyes trained on them, watching them have their moment in silent conversation, but in all honesty, he didn’t rightfully care. All he wanted was for Keith to feel comfortable and happy, and if that meant being all smooshy and cute in front of them, then that was what he would do. _Don’t worry about a thing, of course I’ll drive._

 

Keith’s shoulders seemed to deflate where he stood, a relieved little bubble of sound breaking from his lips. _Thanks Lance, I owe you one._

 

_Yeah - I’m thinking a shower? I’ve been waiting way too long to see that ass of yours._

 

‘L-Lance!’ 

 

Lance just laughed raucously as Keith’s face exploded into a vision of colour, eyes horrorstruck as they followed Lance helplessly across the room. He was starting to find the upsides of dating a deaf guy, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heres a rough translation of all the Spanish things people said courtesy of google translate;
> 
> cariño - honey  
> Chico- boy  
> ¡Ustedes, para por favor! ¡Detender! - You guys! Stop it, please! Stop!  
> ¡Dame fuerza! - Give me strength!  
> Idiota- idiot  
> encantador - lovely
> 
> come yell at me about Klance! We can also geek out together about mama McClain, 'cause I gotta admit, I kinda love her https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interesting car ride turns into an even more interesting conversation that has Keith and Lance on edge in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. This chapter was... well, it was meant to be fluff. I seriously don't know what happened. Like, at all. I think I'm incapable. But hey! Drama can be good too! And trust me, there seems to be plenty :)
> 
> Thank you guys SO much from the bottom of my heart for the response you've given to this fic, I know I say it a lot, and I don't want it to sound trite, but I really, genuinely love every single one of you for reading it. And thank you times ten to my more regular commenters, I adore seeing your names come up when I check my inbox! It makes me so happy to see familiar names following along! 
> 
> On to the drama ~

 

‘Yeah but what about if batman _did_ have superhuman powers like the rest of them, eh?! What _then?!’_

 

Lance sighed heavily, lowering his head down onto the steering wheel momentarily as he contemplated the morality of pulling over and dragging Ali from the car by his feet. They had only been in the car for forty minutes, but ever since they had set off, Ali and Charo had seemed determined to debate every canonical inconsistency and possibility of every superhero they could think of. He was ready to kill them, and apparently, Fredo had reached the same conclusion. 

 

‘Jesus _Christ,_ can you guys _please_ shut the hell up for one _second?!’_ he snapped, leaning over in his seat to bat Ali away from Lance’s shoulder. ‘And stop grabbing onto Lance! Last time I checked, he’s the one driving us and if he crashes, we’re all screwed!’

 

‘Damn, Fredo, chill out!’ Ali bit back, straining against his seatbelt to shove his face into Fredo’s personal space. Fredo wondered, not for the first time, why they had let Ali sit in the middle seat - he _always_ caused hell when he was within easy reaching distance of every other person in the car. ‘And anyway, it’s not like I’m disturbing him! Am I, Lorenzo?’

 

Lance started, whipping his head around to glare daggers into Ali’s face. _‘How many times I gotta tell you not to call me that?!’_

 

‘Dude, watch the road!’ Fredo yelled, body snapping forwards to shove Lance’s face back towards the traffic. As he moved, his shoulder caught against the back of Keith’s seat, bumping it forwards. A noise high with alarm rang through the car, and for a moment, everyone stopped in their bickering to cast their eyes over Keith, who had since pressed himself heavily into the side of the door, eyes blinking rapidly as they scanned the car. 

 

‘W-what the hell was that?’ he demanded, hands raised defensively against his chest. For a beat, no one moved, until unable to hold it anymore, Lance let a peal of laughter break the silence. 

 

‘Keith, what the hell?’ he chuckled, turning to throw him a fond smile before raising a hand in comfort. ‘Fredo knocked your chair, relax,’ he spoke slowly, doing his best to watch Keith and the road at the same time. 

 

‘Knocked my chair? Is that what you said?’

 

Lance nodded, replacing his hand on the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, nothing to worry about, sorry. You can go back to staring out the window now if you want,’

 

Keith blinked at him for a moment, not quite able to keep up with what Lance was saying, before finally he shook his limbs loose and turned his head back to the passing scenery. ‘Whatever you just said, I kinda missed it, so I’m gonna carry on staring out the window now. Don’t fucking knock my chair - you scared the shit outta me,’

 

‘Dude that’s exactly what he just said!’ Ali giggled, reaching forwards again to try and grab Keith. He would have managed it if it weren’t for Lance’s sharp fingers digging painfully into his extended wrist.

 

‘Don’t even think about it, cabrón,’ he hissed, shooting him another more venomous glare in the rear view mirror. ‘if you make Keith jump again, I’ll kill you,’

 

Ali quite sensibly leaned back into his seat, face drooped in defeat. ‘God, no need to be so mean about it, Lorenzo, I was just having some fun,’

 

Lance’s grip on the steering wheel tightened dangerously as he searched for the patience needed to _not_ kill his family. 

 

‘Idiota, you literally _just_ heard him say not to call him that and you go and do it again?’ Charo deadpanned, head lilting to the side as she raised her eyes from her phone. She had always wondered if her brother was running a few cards short of a full deck, but he seemed determined that day to prove that he was. 

 

‘Call him what? Lorenzo? But that’s his _name!’_

 

‘Yeah, on my birth certificate!’ Lance whined, slumping into his seat with a little too much vigour, making the car jolt unexpectedly. Another, smaller whimper drifted over from Keith, and Lance send him a quick mental apology before straightening the car back out. Driving with his family was always trying, but they seemed more irritating than usual. 

 

‘And so that’s what I’m calling you…’ Ali’s voice was slow, as though he were trying to explain something very simple to a child. Seemingly concerned for Lance’s rising blood pressure, Fredo decided it was time to intervene.

 

‘It might be the name on his birth certificate, Ali, but that doesn’t mean he has to be called it, you know - no, do _not_ interrupt me, you pinchazo inútil - and if we’re going by your logic, then we’d be calling you Álvaro!’

 

_‘Don’t you dare call me that!’_ Ali screeched, eyes wide in horror. ‘And seriously, Fredo? ‘Pinchazo inútil’??’

 

‘What? You are - it’s not my fault I’m morally bound to tell the truth,’

 

‘Guys! Can you _please_ stop with the bickering while I’m trying to drive? I _really_ don’t wanna crash and kill us all when I’ve got Keith in the car,’

 

‘What about me being in the car?’ Keith asked, having chosen that moment to glance round at Lance’s face. Lance sighed, turning to give him a long suffering smile. 

 

‘Nothing, cariño, my family’s just being a bunch of assholes,’ he said slowly, reaching out a hand to pat Keith on the knee. Keith watched his hand blankly before shrugging. 

 

‘All I got from that was ‘nothing’ and ‘assholes’, but I’m pretty sure I get the gist. Also - did you just call me something in Spanish? I swear to god, Lance, if you start using fucking pet names I _will_ dump you and email that baby photo you showed me the other day to all our professors,’

 

‘Wh- _you wouldn’t dare!’_ For one agonising second, Lance was torn between keeping the car on the road and reaching over to throttle Keith in his seat. Seeming to take Lance’s pained expression as a victory, Keith just smirked and turned back to look out the window again. A small huff from the back seat pulled Lance’s attention momentarily away from his ever increasing murderous instincts.

 

‘You know, I really like this one, Lance,’ Fredo grinned, folding his arms over his chest.

 

‘Well, then _you_ can have him,’ Lance muttered, scrunching his eyebrows together as he focused back on the road. ‘I am _so_ done with the whole emo -‘

 

‘ _Lance!’_ Keith’s voice cut through the car like butter, his hand a death grip on Lance’s arm, drawing his eyes up to Keith just in time to see the truck speeding towards them from a slip lane. 

 

‘Shit!’ he yelled, swerving the car to the left in a bid to give the truck more space, but as he moved Keith’s hand tightened around his wrist, pulling the steering wheel back towards himself - and towards the truck. ‘Keith! Keith, let go of my arm!’ 

 

‘Lance, pull over. Pull over right now - _you gotta pull over, Lance!’_

 

Keith’s voice was strained against his throat, eyes locked hard on the truck as it too swerved out of the path of the car, dodging around the side of them without so much as the tiniest clip. In fact, Lance figured that not once had they been in any danger of colliding until Keith had panicked and grabbed ahold of Lance. He shook his arm slightly, trying to get through to Keith to drop his hold, but nothing he did seemed to work - Keith had closed his eyes and slumped as far as the seat would allow, the low keening from that morning back with a vengeance. 

 

‘Lance, Lance - you gotta get him to let go, you can’t drive like that,’ Fredo said, voice breathless as he leaned forwards in his seat to rest a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance nodded, throwing a glance into the rear view mirror to look at his siblings - Ali had curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his knees, while Charo was just managing to relax her body back down from a very similar pose.

 

‘I know, Fredo, but how the hell am I meant to do that _and_ drive?!’

 

‘Okay, let me,’ with that, Fredo leaned over to Keith, wrapping his fingers as gently as he could around Keith’s own wrist and giving a small tug. Keith jumped so high in his seat he nearly hit the ceiling, but it at the very least made him open his eyes. Once he had, Fredo slipped a comforting smile onto his face, tilting his head to the side. ‘Hey, Keith? You gotta let go of Lance’s arm, buddy,’ he said slowly, annunciating each word carefully so Keith could keep up.

 

‘We gotta pull over,’ was all Keith could say in response, voice still panicked and hands shaking against Lance’s sleeve. ‘Lance - please, you gotta pull into the hard shoulder, I need to get out of the car,’

 

‘How the quiznak am I meant to do that, Keith?! Have you seen the -‘

 

‘ _You gotta pull over now, Lance!’_

 

Lance risked another look at Keith’s face, sucking in a sharp breath as he took in the look of sheer panic covering Keith’s features. He was freaking the hell out, and if Lance was honest, he couldn’t blame him. Nodding slowly, he relaxed slightly as Fredo finally managed to remove Keith’s hand, and flicked on his blinkers to indicate that he was pulling over. Once they were safely parked on the hard shoulder, he hit the hazard light button, and watched as Keith turned to the door, pushing it open with trembling arms. 

 

Opening his own door, he rushed to the other side of the car, grabbing Keith by the shoulders to stop him tumbling out onto the asphalt, gripping him tightly against his body. He smoothed Keith’s hair down, feeling the shake of Keith’s muscles lessen with the contact, pointless reassurances leaving his lips in spurts. 

 

‘Lance, what the hell was that?’ Charo asked, letting herself out of the car too. She eyed Keith warily, shifting to the side to accommodate Ali as he too exited the vehicle. They were both visibly shaken, but looked more concerned for Keith than for themselves. 

 

‘I-it’s nothing,’ Lance said, not needing to speak to Keith to know that he wouldn’t want to be outed to people he had just met. ‘that truck was coming at us way fast, and I think Keith just misjudged where it was going - it probably looked like it was gonna hit us,’

 

‘No, it didn’t, Lance,’ Fredo said, frowning as he walked around the edge of the car to stand on Lance’s other side. ‘it wasn’t anywhere near us. Sure, it was speeding a bit, but there was no way it would have hit us - you know that. So what the hell was with him freaking out like that?’

 

Lance figured he should have known that his siblings wouldn’t buy any old excuse, but really he didn’t know what else he was supposed to have said. A grimace tugged at his features, and he glanced down at Keith’s face, still buried in his chest. ‘Does it really matter?’ he asked, forcing a note on contention into his voice. Maybe if he seemed irritated, they would let it drop.

 

‘Does it matter? Does it _matter?!’_ Ali all but screeched, taking a threatening step towards them. So, Lance had apparently thought wrong. ‘Of _course_ it matters, numbskull! You could have _killed_ us swerving around like that!’

 

‘Okay, Ali!’ Fredo snapped, resting a hand against Ali’s shoulder. ‘Chill out! Look, let’s just ask Keith, shall we? Lance?’ he looked over at his middle brother, nodding his head sharply down at Keith. Sighing, Lance realised he had no other choice. 

 

‘Keith?’ he murmured, loosening his grip on his shoulders. Keith shook his head petulantly, shuffling closer to Lance’s embrace before whining low in his throat as Lance let go all together. Lance grabbed his chin, hoisting his face upwards and forcing Keith to look at him. _Wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?_ He signed, concentrating hard on making his expression soft and understanding. He knew all too well that Keith would just close himself off if he felt like Lance was challenging him. 

 

_S-sorry, I’m fine now, lets.. get back in the car._ Keith signed, but Lance didn’t buy it for a minute - his hands shook around every sign, his eyes still wide and dancing nervously as they flickered from Lance’s face to the speeding cars on the freeway behind them. 

 

_Not a chance, Keith, not until you tell me what got you so panicked. You nearly made me crash._

 

_I nearly made you crash?!_ He made a noise of indignation, eyebrows raising incredulously into his hairline. _That damned truck nearly made us crash, Lance! It was going to hit us!_

 

_No it wasn’t, Keith, and you know that. Look - I get you’re freaked out in cars, but wasn’t that a little extreme?_

 

Keith’s face seemed to crumble at Lance’s words, his shoulders falling slack as his hands fell down to his sides. For a moment Lance feared that he may have been too harsh, but when Keith took a step back to lean against the car door, he realised that Keith _did_ know he was right - he was just playing dumb. 

 

‘Fuck,’ Keith hissed, raising his hands again. _Okay, whatever - you’re right. Happy now? I freaked for no goddamned reason, and nearly got us all killed, just because I can’t deal with cars. I thought the fucking truck was closer than it was, okay? I just.. as soon as I saw it, I couldn’t help thinking about the crash, about.. fuck! Whatever, no. I’m not explaining it. I refuse to relive that while I’m standing on some goddamned hard shoulder somewhere surrounded by strangers!_

 

‘Woah, okay, okay, calm down!’ Lance breathed, taking a step closer to Keith’s side. He ran his hands up and down Keith’s arms soothingly while Keith breathed in and out like he had just run a marathon. _It’s okay - we’re all fine, Keith. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was your fault, alright? I just needed to know what was going on in your head. I’m not psychic, you know?_

 

Keith laughed at that, removing the last shreds of tension from between them. _Yeah, I know, sorry. Look, can you not tell them about the crash? I don’t really want them knowing if that’s okay._

 

_Sure._ Lance did his best to don his winning smile, enjoying the way it relaxed the remaining strain from Keith’s shoulders. _But I gotta tell them something - they kinda freaked too when you lost your shit._

 

_Damn it.. of course they did._ Keith glanced up at Fredo, Ali and Charo, wincing as he saw them watching him with curious, guarded eyes. _Tell them.. tell them that I was like, distracted or something and misjudged the distance. I panicked so much ‘cause I wasn’t entirely with it._

 

_That’s your excuse?_ Lance winked, grinning as a thin veneer of blush spread across Keith’s cheeks. 

 

‘Shut up!’ he snapped, reaching a hand out to smack Lance in the arm, growling as he darted out of the way with a high pitched laugh. ‘God, you’re such an asshole,’

 

‘I’ve been saying that for years and no one believed me..’ Ali mumbled irritably from behind them, folding his arms over his chest. The comment earned him a dull whack around the back of the head from Charo for his efforts. ‘So - lover boy told you what the hell the problem was?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Lance sighed, reaching out to take Keith by the hand. Keith seemed a little reluctant at first, before melting into the touch as Lance’s shoulder brushed up against his own. ‘yeah, he was just kinda dozing and out of it, so when he saw the truck coming in faster than it should have been, he panicked, you know? Like, misjudged the distance, I guess? He said he was kinda distracted, so it really weirded him out. And I guess the whole not being able to hear thing probably didn’t help much,’ he grinned sheepishly, hoping the embellishment wasn’t pushing it too far. But both Charo and Ali were nodding sagely, seeming at least somewhat placated by the explanation. Only Fredo didn’t look quite so happy. 

 

Once Keith had settled down enough to climb back in the car, Fredo pulled Lance by the arm, stepping him aside with his head bowed low. Lance knew from his face that he didn’t buy his acting, but forced a look of nonchalance onto his own features all the same. ‘What?’ he asked, pulling his hand free.

 

‘You know what,’ Fredo muttered, dodging to the side to cut off any possible view Keith might have had of their lips. ‘you know that story’s a pile of shit just like I do. What’s really going on, Lance?’

 

Lance blinked up at him, feigning innocence. ‘I really don’t know _what_ you’re talking about, Fredo,’ he smiled. ‘but if you wanna ask Keith about it, feel free? Of course, it’ll take a while - I doubt he’ll get what your saying from lip reading alone, and we haven’t got a pen or paper around either,’

 

‘Then _you_ interpret for me,’

 

‘Not a chance, I’m afraid, Fredo my man, my brother,’ he slapped his hands amicably against Fredo’s chest, leaning in. But he let his eyes darken imperceptibly, his grin widening as he caught the look of uncertainty cross Fredo’s face. ‘no way in hell am I helping you accuse Keith of lying. If you wanna interrogate my boyfriend for getting a little freaked out, go ahead - but you’ll be doing it alone. And I’ll be _sure_ to tell mamá and paps about how you man handled a deaf guy. That’d go down _great_ at work, right?’

 

‘Y-.. you’re really a piece of work, you know that?’

 

Lance nodded softly, raising one eyebrow at the look of fear creeping into Fredo’s eyes. 

 

‘Y’know, I always forget how manipulative you can be, Lance - I always thought it was just Arlo that did that to you, but maybe _you_ were the bad one right from the start,’

 

Lance felt his body freeze, muscles spasming as the all too familiar name ricocheted around his brain. As the fear that he really was turning into Arlo crept back up his spine. He had thought he was rid of that.. rid of the way Arlo clung to his subconscious, fed off of his insecurities and made him doubt himself as a person. Made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. Yet all it took was one stray comment from his brother, pissed off and shaken up as he was, and Lance was right back where he had been when he was still nineteen. He knew Fredo didn’t mean it, hadn’t meant to suggest what he did, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done, and the pain was already there, bleeding into Lance’s chest. 

 

‘Lance?’ Fredo’s voice cut through into his thoughts, pulling him back from the dangerous spiral he had been heading down. ‘Lance, you okay? Y-you know I didn’t mean that, right? I didn’t mean to bring up Arlo,’

 

‘C-can we just stop talking about him now?’ Lance asked, horrified to hear for himself how quiet his voice had become. Just like before, when Arlo had all but stolen it from him. ‘I’m alright, honestly,’

 

‘No, Lance -‘ Fredo grabbed hold of Lance by the wrist, stopping him from stepping around and back to the car. He could feel the eyes of the others training in on him, but decided that he didn’t care - he had said the _worst_ thing he ever could have to his brother, and he was determined to at least try and make it right. ‘Seriously, do you really expect me to buy that? You’re _not_ okay - just look at your face! Jeez.. I’m so sorry I went there, I never should have bought him up at all. You’re nothing like him, Lance, you never were,’

 

Lance nodded, eyes deadened as he stared up into Fredo’s face. ‘We should probably get back into the car now,’ he said, slipping his hand from Fredo’s grip and returning to his seat behind the steering wheel. Fredo gulped, not wanting to even try and imagine the hell he had sparked in side of his little brother’s brain. 

 

‘You okay?’ Keith asked once Lance was once again seated next to him, eyebrows pinched in worry. It had looked like he and Fredo were having quite the tense conversation, and he hadn’t liked the way it made Lance’s face glass over like he was shutting down.

 

‘’Course,’ Lance told him, turning his face to smile reassuringly as his hand squeezed Keith’s own. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

 

Keith cocked his head, considering. It was true - why wouldn’t Lance be okay? Unless Fredo had said something rude about Keith, perhaps suggested that he thought Keith was attention seeking? He glanced in the rear view mirror, finding Fredo’s face as Lance set off onto the freeway again. No, that couldn’t be it - Fredo was watching Lance with a look of such intense guilt that Keith didn’t think there could be any way it had anything to do with him. Why would Fredo look guilty if it did? Whatever it was that had caused that look on Lance’s face, it wasn’t something he was willing to share with Keith, and that fact burned a strange, unfamiliar hole into his chest. 

 

He brushed it off, reminding himself of his promise from that morning. He was going to enjoy their day together, not allow foolish insecurities to ruin his first chance at happiness in the longest time. 

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

They had gotten to the restaurant late, nearly half an hour after Lance’s parents, aunt and uncle, and Keith couldn’t help but feel responsible. Thanks to his outburst, they had gotten stuck in a traffic jam they otherwise would have avoided, and as a result, they had nearly lost their booking. 

 

Taking his seat by Lance’s side, Keith cast his eyes up and down the table, trying to push the feeling of guilt that was gnawing at the back of his throat down into his feet. He knew reasonably that it wasn’t really his fault - he couldn’t exactly _help_ the fact that he had a difficult relationship with motor vehicles - but it didn’t quite help when he saw Charo and Ali staring at him covertly from the other side of the table as Lance’s mother questioned them for the thousandth time about why they were late. He ducked his head, trying to avoid attention, and felt Lance’s hand slip reassuringly onto his knee beneath the table top. He gave it a squeeze with his own fingers, smiling lightly as he took the menu offered to him by the waitress. 

 

Apparently the waitress had said something, as he felt Lance’s fingers jab into his shoulder pointedly, and glanced up to find eight laughing faces all looking over at him. Flushing, he turned to Lance and raised his eyebrow. 

 

_The waitress wants to know what you want to drink._ He signed, eyes darting back up and past Keith, who twisted his neck to see what had caught his attention - the waitress was looking back and forth from him to Lance, a look of mild horror clouding her eyes. He swallowed, and looked for Lance’s hands again in an effort to figure out what was going on. 

 

_‘-not a problem, at all!’_ Lance was saying, hands signing along for Keith’s benefit. _‘He’s just deaf, he didn’t mean to ignore you, I promise!’_ He shot a wink at Keith for added measure, grinning wide as Keith nudged his foot irritably beneath the table. _‘If you’ve got a question for him, just say and I’ll interpret, it’s totally cool,’_

 

A couple of beats passed, before Lance turned back to look at Keith again, waving a finger beneath his face to catch his attention. _She asked again what you want to drink, and she also apologised for just like, talking at you and assuming you were ignoring her and stuff._

 

Keith hummed, feeling the vibrations run up his throat. Lifting his hands, he glanced down at the drinks section of the menu and thought for a moment about what to order. _Um, I’ll have a coffee I think - just black’s cool, with sugar. And tell her it’s okay, I really should have mentioned something before I sat down._

 

He let Lance relay the message, frowning for a reason he couldn’t place when Lance looked like he laughed happily at something the waitress had said. Once he was sure that the order had passed on to everyone else at the table, he chanced a glance up at the waitress’ face, glowering as he realised that she was pretty. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, but the way Lance’s eyes followed her around the table didn’t seem entirely innocent. It was almost as though.. no, he was being paranoid. He knew it was to be expected, considering the fact that he had never dated before, but he was sitting with Lance’s family. That _had_ to mean something good, right? There was no way that Lance would be flirting with a random waitress when his boyfriend was sitting right next to him.. surely. 

 

He startled, feeling another squeeze to his knee. Looking up, he met Lance’s eyes. 

 

_You okay? You’re making a weird noise again._

 

_I am?_ He asked, frowning in embarrassment. It was one thing knowing he was making noises when it was just him and Lance or Shiro, or even in a lecture, but for some reason it was ten times more mortifying around Lance’s relatives. Lance nodded. 

 

_Yeah. You’re not uncomfortable are you?_

 

_Nah, I’m good._ He told him, forcing the most convincing grin he could muster. _Just thinking what I want to eat._

 

_Ohh.. I was thinking maybe the crab cakes.. oh! Or maybe the salmon.. OR I could have both.._

 

Keith felt himself laugh, the tension he hadn’t realised he had been holding draining form his shoulders. _Or you could pick just one like a normal person?_

 

_Hey! Don’t judge me just ‘cause I have an insatiable appetite._ Lance winked, wiggling his eyebrows as Keith felt his face heat up.

 

_Oh my god, Lance! Quit it, we’re in public!_

 

_Oh c’mon, it’s not like anyone can tell what we’re saying._

 

He hated Lance for it, but he _did_ have a point. The chances of anyone else in the restaurant knowing ASL and just _happening_ to glance over at them at that very moment were startlingly slim, but it still didn’t help stop the hot flush Keith felt making its way up from his gut. He knew he had to put a damper on the tight twist he could feel forming in his abdomen, but when he made the mistake of looking back up at Lance and catching the way his eyes smouldered dangerously in the light, he realised any effort was futile. The best he could hope for was the rest of his body remaining under his control and not betraying him _too_ badly. 

 

_Okay, okay, I’ll stop!_ Lance signed, making Keith furrow his brows. Lance’s face lifted into a laugh. _Oh my god, you didn’t know - you’re making the BEST noise right now, it’s all flustered and adorable - ..OH MY GOD, KEITH. What the hell are you thinking about?!_

 

Keith had the sudden desire to excuse himself from the table and never return. He could feel every pair of eyes trained in on him, and it took every ounce of strength he had in his body not to turn his head and make eye contact.

 

_N-nothing, I swear! I just.. fuck sake, Lance, stop laughing! Jeez.. don’t pick on me like this, you know I have no idea what I sound like._

 

Lance’s face gave the desired effect immediately as it turned from eternal amusement to immense guilt in a moment, and Keith could feel his own face straining against the urge to smile. If Lance was going to wind him up and make him quite literally hot under the collar, then he was going play him at his own game - just _better._

 

His fun was short lived, however, as someone once again stole Lance’s attention, and Keith was left to his own devices until Lance interpreted. 

 

_Back to business, I’m afraid, honey._ He signed, ignoring Keith’s disparaging look at the pet name. _Lovely miss waitress here wants to know if you’ve decided on your order._

 

Keith glowered, unable to stop himself from thinking that the waitress was anything _but_ lovely. _Especially_ if Lance thought so. Sighing, he looked down at the menu again. _The chicken burger._ He signed after a long moment. _With fries, not onion rings - those things are fucking disgusting - and… a side of garlic bread._

 

_Garlic bread? You sure about that? Your breath is gonna REEK._

 

_Yeah? And who’s the one that’s gonna have to put up with that?_ Keith smirked. Yep, two could _definitely_ play at that game. 

 

_Touché.._ Lance turned back to relay the message, getting lost in whatever his family was saying for long enough to let Keith catch his breath. Even the simple task of ordering food was exhausting when surrounded by so many people. 

 

Once the waitress had left with their mountain of food orders, all of the attention once again fell onto Keith. As he had fairly expected, they went through all of the usual questions, asking him about his home life, about what schools he had gone to and where he had lived, as well as what past relationships he had been in before Lance. And just as Keith had assumed, every single one was beyond humiliating to answer. 

 

He told them about Shiro, about how he had adopted him when he was fourteen, reassuring them like he did everyone else that they didn’t have to feel bad about it, that he was fine with being adopted. He explained that after he had gone deaf, he had dropped out of school for a year, before finally returning and going to a community college so he could stay close to Shiro. That after his first year there, he had decided that it was time to venture away from home and bite the bullet of standing on his own two feet. And worst of all, he told them that Lance was his first ever relationship, the first person he had ever felt anything for that could be described as even close to love. Unsurprisingly, that was what everyone around him clung to, faces falling slack in the shock he was slowly learning to expect. 

 

_Mamá says ‘oh my god! I don’t believe it! How can that be true when you look so pretty, cariño?’_ Lance translated, stifling a laugh against the back of his hand as he finished signing. Keith grumbled low in his chest, fighting the urge to hide his face bashfully behind his hair. He still didn’t quite understand what Mamá McClain’s obsession with the way he looked was all about. Personally, he didn’t see anything particularly special when he looked in the mirror - quite the opposite, if he were honest. All _he_ saw was too pale skin and a mass of dark hair, too sharp eyes and a horrifyingly intense resting bitch face. It was still a wonder to him that Lance had started talking to him at all when he knew for a fact that most of the looks he gave him were barely concealed glares. 

 

Sighing, he forced a smile and met Mamá McClain’s eyes. ‘That’s nice of you to say,’ he said, burying the typical insecurity of speak out loud to people he barely knew. ‘but really it’s just ‘cause no one ever caught my eye before. I was kinda.. wrapped up in my own world, if I’m honest,’ he rubbed the back of his neck, fighting his fingers away from messing with his hearing aid. The resistance didn’t last long, though, and as soon as Mamá McClain had professed yet another cooing praise for his appearance, his fingertips found their way to the familiar white orb pressed deep into his ear. 

 

But in his anxiety over the prolonged attention, he pressed too hard and winced as his finger caught the switch that turned it off, his face twisting at the high pitched squeal it let out. Usually he didn’t hear it at all - he always made sure to turn them on before he slipped them into his ears - and the unexpected sound threw him completely off balance. It was the first thing he had heard in months. 

 

Feeling his heart race, he was vaguely aware of a buzzing in his chest - some other strange noise he was making, he was sure - and he pulled the offending item from where it rested to drop it on the table. 

 

‘ _Keith?! You okay?’_ Lance signed, shoving his hands into Keith’s line of sight. He shook his head blearily, blinking wide as he turned to face Lance. 

 

‘Y-yeah, sorry.. I pressed the button and turned it off.. it, uh.. beeped?’ he wasn’t sure if he had meant to phrase it as a question, but he wanted to be sure that everyone else had heard it too - it wouldn’t have been the first time that he had heard phantom sounds. 

 

‘ _You’re telling me..’_ Lance had a strange look on his face, and for a moment Keith worried that he was angry. ‘ _That was so loud! Wait… did you hear that?!’_

 

‘Uh, yeah.. I mean, it was right in my ear, so it was close enough to hear, I guess? And it was _really_ high pitched. I hadn’t realised it was high enough to hear before..’ He stared down at the earpiece on the table in something akin to wonder. If he had have known that before he might have experimented with it a little, used it as a reminder of what it was like to hear when the deafness was so stifling he thought he would go insane. ‘How loud was it?’ he glanced around the table, watching several pairs of moving lips all vying for attention at once. 

 

_‘Damn.. no wonder you could hear it then..’_ Lance signed, lips moving along as he spoke for his family’s sake. _‘It was crazy loud, Keith - I’d be surprised if anyone in here didn’t hear it, unless they’re deaf like you,’_

 

Apparently Lance’s aunt had taken offence at his comment, and saw fit to throw a bunched up napkin across the table towards Lance’s head. Keith let himself laugh in a effort to relax, wrapping his fingers around the hearing aid again. He picked it up, considering if he should turn it back on or just leave it be - if it really _was_ as loud as Lance had said, it might be rude to press the button again in such a public place. 

 

_‘Uh, Keith? Uncle Jim has a question, but he’s worried its a little rude - you cool with that?’_

 

Keith nodded blankly, lilting his head to the side. 

 

_Okay, he’s asking you what your hearing aids actually do - if you’re so deaf that you could only hear that MONSTER beep ‘cause it was right in your ear, how do they actually help? To be honest, I’ve kinda been wondering the same thing.._

 

Keith suppressed a snort, tightening his hand into a fist around the aid. ‘That’s not a rude question at all,’ he said, turning to look across the table at Jim. ‘Um, they don’t really do much, I guess? About a year ago when my hearing was a little better still they just kinda helped to filter the sound, really.. like, ‘cause all I could hear were louder noises and stuff, they just softened it a bit so it didn’t hurt to go out in public, like near busy roads and big crowds. But now I guess I mostly just wear them ‘cause I’m used to them. My ears feel a little weird without them in. But they do help intensify the sounds I _can_ hear, like alarms. If I wasn’t wearing them, I doubt I could hear a fire alarm, but with them I’m pretty sure I could at least hear it well enough to know something was going on,’

 

_He says ‘oh, so they’re kind of like a backup sort of thing, for just in case?’_

 

Keith nodded vaguely, considering it. ‘I’ve not really thought about it like that, but yeah, I guess you’re right? Give it another year and I won’t need to wear them at all,’ 

 

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, taking in the looks ranging from uncomfortable to sad. He knew better than to be honest about the state of his hearing with people, knew that no one wanted to know about just how bad it really was. And yet he had broken his golden rule. Lance’s family just made him want to be honest - they made him want to _open up._

 

’S-sorry..’ he mumbled, returning to staring at the aid in his palm. A slim brown hand slipped over his own, and he smiled softly, letting Lance take the aid from him and toss it back and forth between his lithe fingers. ‘Honestly, it’s not something I really mind - I’ve been legally deaf for four years now, so I’m used to it. And it really helps having Lance around. No one but Shiro’s ever gone to so much effort to accommodate me before,’ he grinned up at him, enjoying the blush he caused across Lance’s face. 

 

Lance reached out towards him with something like hesitation, slotting the aid back into Keith’s ear without turning it on. _‘Aw, look at you being all full of praise - did something crawl up your ass and possess you? You’re never this nice,’_

 

Keith’s grin couldn’t have dropped any faster. ‘That right there is why I’m never nice to you, Lance - whenever I am you’re an asshole about it,’ _And we know one thing that isn’t crawling up my ass anytime soon._ He signed, more than careful to make sure he didn’t accidentally say it out loud as well. 

 

The look his comment drew from Lance’s face was enough to strike Keith dead in his seat. Flushing and desperate, Lance’s mouth opened and closed on repeat for the better part of a minute, before settling on an expression so twisted it almost looked like he was having a seizure. Keith just schooled his features into a look of perfect innocence, blinking politely at Lance’s relatives as they tried to figure out what had just happened. 

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

Arlo smiled softly, a small, sweet melody tumbling out from between his lips. It was dark in his room, the windows shrouded in blinds, two thick blankets covering his head to block out the remainder of the light. On the screen of his phone in front of him, was the picture of a face he was slowly coming to know very well. 

 

Sharp violet eyes and thick black hair. It was safe to say though, Arlo thought to himself idly as he swiped through to the next picture, that the mullet really wasn’t quite as appealing in the photos. Maybe he would have to do something about it.. persuade him to try a new cut. Persuasion _was_ Arlo’s ‘thing’, after all. 

 

He didn’t think even Keith would be above it. His smile widened.

 

Oh, he was going to have so much fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe.. maybe Arlo's actually a nice guy?? Maybe.. he really does just want to give Keith a haircut?? 
> 
> Come hit me up on Tumblr and we can scream together! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e


	14. 'The Day Lance's Boyfriend Went Insane'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Keef' looses his temper and Lance has to figure out very quickly how to explain a murderous rampage to his landlord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for GIVING ME OVER 2000 VIEWS! What the actual ever living hell. Like, this does not compute. Every single one of you are THE BEST. 
> 
> I also want to apologise a little for the lack of updates this week, I've been hella busy Questioning My Life Choices™. It turns out that funnily enough, two separate research trips in three days - both of which have you out of the house for 24 hours each - is maybe just a little bit too much to cope with. Go figure. So yeah, that happened and I turned full Zombie in the middle of London and may or may not have nearly been squished multiple times because I forgot how to cross roads. And then to top it all off, I got rejected by the job of my dreams yesterday *thumbs up*. So yeah, writing for this kinda got pushed by the way side, hence my fluffy little chapter today! I know it's very short, and very unnecessary for the plot, but hell I wanted to upload it anyway! Really, this was supposed to be in the last chapter, but that got crazy long (just like this note, I'm so sorry), so it became The Angry Keef Incident instead! I hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it! It's fluffy, it's (hopefully) funny, and goddamnit I love these stupid boys ~
> 
> As always comment and kudos give me life, and I love every single one of you who read my work! <3
> 
> EDITED NOTE: I just wanted to add that this chapter is in no way supposed to be taken as serious - neither Keith's nor Lance's reactions/intentions are negative, just melodramatic and silly. If you don't want to read this chapter, feel free to skip to the next when it's posted, it's just a silly little side story >< Also, I apologise but it might be a little while before the next chapter goes up - I've had a horrendous week, and I'm not in the best place, so I need to get myself back together before I focus on writing any more. Hopefully it'll just be a week's break <3

 

Lunch had been a resounding success; mama McClain was so enamoured with Keith that she had unofficially adopted him, Uncle Jim and Aunt Ida couldn’t stop singing his praises, and Lance’s father already considered him one of his own. Even Lance’s siblings were becoming die-hard Keith fans. But despite this win-of-all-wins, Lance was not happy. In fact, Lance wasn’t happy at all - he was furious. 

 

They liked Keith too much. 

 

The whole affair had started off innocently enough, pleasing Lance no end with how quickly his family had grown attached to his boyfriend, but once it became evident that they liked him _just as much as Lance,_ it was clear that something had to change. _No one_ could replace Lance in the eyes of his family - not even his beloved other half. 

 

And so, Lance had derived the plan he liked the name ‘Operation Angry Keef’. This plan would, if all went well, highlight to his family once and for all just how much of a monumental bastard Keith really was, and once again have all of his family’s love and affection bestowed upon Lance. Which, of course, was right where it rightfully belonged, not to some stupid mullet-headed anger-gremlin. 

 

His plan was, admittedly, not particularly well thought out, but then he _was_ a firm believer in the idea that true genius could not be controlled nor corralled, and so said plan would come to fruition all of its own accord, minimal plotting required. All it asked of Lance was the patience to wait until they were safely within the confines of his apartment, and the carefully, precisely timed application of just enough subtle taunts and jibes to make Keith thoroughly lose his shit. All without making Lance look like a dick himself. _Easy._

 

Planning complete, he sat back patiently waiting - or rather, bouncing annoyingly in his seat, and managing to already drive poor Keith to distraction - for the moment they all stepped through his apartment door. 

 

‘Aaannnndddd home ~!’ he sang as he pushed dramatically passed Charo to flop face-first into his waiting couch. For the tiniest of moments he contemplated abandoning his plan in favour of allowing the cushions to claim him as one of their own and simply live amongst them in blissful harmony, until two now-very-much-hated voices drifted over to his twitching ears. 

 

‘Keith, cariño, don’t just stand in the doorway! Come in! Make yourself at home. I’ll make you a coffee - or maybe a tea to settle those nerves?’ Mama McClain’s traitorous words drew Lance from the depths of his couch - which by this point he considered to be his only friend and ally - so fast he thought he might dislocate his head. He didn’t stop to consider the technical possibilities of a head-dislocation, rather zeroing in on his _wonderful_ boyfriend as he spoke his answer.

 

‘Uh, coffee sounds pretty good, actually. Thank you, Ma’am,’ Lance narrowed his eyes as Keith rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. What right did Keith have to look so goddamned _cute_ while betraying his love and trust like that? Who had told him it was acceptable to be so adorable and simultaneously _tear Lance’s family apart?_ Of course, Lance knew in his deepest darkest heart of hearts that he _was_ most likely overreacting, but really, who needed to know that? Keith was a sickening traitor, end of story. Even if he was a devastatingly good looking one. 

 

‘Oh hush, no calling me ‘Ma’am’, young man! It’s ‘Mama’ to you!’

 

‘Uhh.. sorry, I missed that,’

 

His mama’s next move completely and utterly, one hundred and ten percent crossed the line - _she stroked his cheek._ No one - and Lance meant _no one_ \- got the cheek-stroke bar him. Holding back a hiss, Lance implemented Stage One of Operation Angry Keef: he threw a pillow at the back of his head. 

 

‘Wh-! What the _hell_ was that?!’ Keith demanded, whirling around to face Lance with a look like thunder once he had successfully righted his spontaneously flailing limbs. Met with Lance’s grinning face, Keith scowled - sadly, Lance noticed, away from his family’s line of sight.

 

_‘Oh, just thought I’d get your attention,’_ he said, flopping his arms over the back of the couch as he signed. 

 

‘Get my attention? Lance, we literally just got in - couldn’t you wait five minutes for me to at least take my coat off?’

 

_‘Nope!’_ he smirked, enjoying the visible bristle he could see beginning around Keith’s shoulders. 

 

‘Lance, let the poor boy at least sit down before you start being irritating,’ his father admonished, drawing a guttural gurgle of dissatisfaction from Lance’s throat. Apparently, Step One had backfired - his family had _obviously_ taken Keith’s side. Time to step it up a notch. 

 

_‘Oh, like Keith’s so convenient when he’s being irritating!’_ He wailed, prostrating himself over the arm of the couch, careful to keep his hands were Keith could see them. _‘He’s literally always annoying me! Poking me, harassing me, throwing things! Did you know he bombarded me with tubes of paint?! And books! Hardback books, mama!’_

 

Keith spluttered, face reddening in the very-much-desired way Lance had intended: he was getting riled up, and it wouldn’t be long before he blew his top and revealed his true self to everyone he had so far successfully fooled. They couldn’t think the sun shone out of Keith’s arse forever, at least not if Lance had any say in the matter. 

 

‘W-! That was _your_ fault! You blamed _me_ for making you jilt me!’

 

Lance mimed tear tracks running down his face. _‘Yeah, yeah, poor baby Keith. That totally means I deserved the bruise right between my eyebrows,’_ he pointed to the small mark still visible on his forehead for added emphasis.

 

‘..He bruised you?’ Fredo asked, incredulous as he stared from his brother to Keith and back again. Lance nodded - making sure to bury down his happiness beneath layer upon layer of feigned hurt - and once Keith had read Lance’s translation, he was overjoyed to see his beloved’s face crumple in embarrassment. 

 

‘I-it’s not like I _meant_ to throw it at your face.. you just kinda got in the way of it’s trajectory..’

 

_‘Sure ~. Sing that one in the court case, my love,’_

 

‘Oh, now you’re just overreacting!’ Success number two: making Keith raise his voice. A nice bonus was the addition of clenched fists and stomping feet. Lance held back his snicker in favour of a full-blown puppy-dog pout. 

 

_‘I don’t think a jury’s gonna think I’m overreacting when I file for grievous bodily harm, Keef,’_

 

‘Keef’ could do nothing but open and close his mouth like a fish out of water for the better part of a minute. ‘..What.. did you just -… call me ‘Keef’?!’

 

_‘Oh, yeah - it’s my new pet name for you. Do you like it?’_

 

‘Fuck no! Who the hell wants to be called ‘Keef’, Lance?! I’ve _got_ a name! A perfectly good one!’

 

_‘Oh c’mon, ‘Keith’ is not a perfectly good name - it’s like, all granny-ish and weird. You sound like an eighties T.V. show character or something. ‘Keith Kogane - defender of the adult diapers section of the grocery store’,’_

 

The snickers from his family told him he was going down the right lines - still comical, but just enough to enrage Keith beyond all reason. And if the growing darkness across Keith’s cheeks were anything to go by, Lance would have his ball-of-white-hot-fury sooner than he could have hoped for. 

 

_‘C’mon, Keef, crack a smile! You look like a gargoyle. What? Don’t like your new name, Keef? How’s ‘Queef’ for a different one? Queef or Keef, Keef?’_

 

A strange strangled sound was slowly emitting itself from Keith’s throat, his hands vibrating softly against his thighs. Lance could tell that Keith was doing everything in his power to remain calm, but it wouldn’t be long before he snapped. All it would take was a couple more well placed digs and Keith would lose it, making Lance once more the centre of his family’s undivided love and attention. 

 

_‘Aw, don’t get mad, Keef! What, you gonna lose your temper, ‘Keef’?’_

 

‘I swear to god, Lance, if you call me ‘Keef’ one more -‘

 

_‘Keef.’_

 

Apparently, Lance’s deadpan expression was too much for Keith. In the matter of what Lance estimated to be three point zero eight seconds, several startling things all happened at once; first, mama McClain, in her ever-loving desire to ‘mother’ anyone her son was fond of, reached out to hand Keith his coffee. Second, Fredo, in a feeble attempt to keep his younger brother and said brother’s brand new boyfriend from brutally murdering each other, took a step between them, arms out wide to shelter them from each other. And finally, Keith himself happened. He happened so spectacularly that not even he could believe the carnage he caused as he flung his arms out in front of himself, pillow once-in-hand, and watched struck dumb as it made its way through the worst course of events he could have imagined.

 

First, it struck mama McClain. It would have been comical, really, the way her cheeks seemed to dance in slow motion as the pillow ran its way across her face. It _would_ have been comical, if it wasn’t for the fact that after it had struck her _face,_ it then struck the full mug of _coffee_ she was carrying in her hands. Or for the fact that she then hit the deck like a ton weight dropped from space. 

 

It _would_ have been comical if it wasn’t for the fact that said cup of coffee then proceeded to land directly on top of the head of a very unsuspecting Fredo, drenching him entirely in the now-sticky expanse of dark caffeine-y goodness. 

 

So really, Keith thought as he stood mouth wide watching little rivers of coffee run down his maybe-no-longer-future-brother-in-law’s face, it might never have been funny at all. Maybe, it was just about the worst thing Keith thought he had ever done, including the time he had stapled his teachers wig to the chalk board while they were too busy scolding Jimmy Teal to notice in eighth grade. 

 

‘Lance..’ Lance’s dear, most favourite-of-all favourite brother’s said, eyes blinking back tiny tears of not-quite-diluted caffeine. ‘..please tell your boyfriend ‘Keef’ that if he doesn’t start running now, then he should expect pure bloody carnage in about ten seconds..’

 

‘Uh.. I- think I got that..’ Keith, in his ever-vacant wisdom said. 

 

_‘Babe..’_

 

‘Yes, Lance?’

 

_‘I really think you might want to start running now,’_

 

‘You know what? I think you might be right,’

 

Keith didn’t think he had ever run so fast in his life. 

 

And so the ‘Angry Keef Incident’ was named, and forever went down in the annals of the McClain family history as ' The Day Lance’s Boyfriend Went Insane’. 

 

(And that was also how three days later, Lance got a decidedly too-polite reminder from his landlord to please keep murderous rampages out of the hallways and corridors of the complex _just in case_ it were to inadvertently offend one of the other residents.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hit me up on Tumblr! I rreeeaaalllllyyyy wanna chat with you guys! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hotarubi-e


	15. On Hiatus

Hi all,

So, first of all, I feel like I should offer an apology to those who have been following this story for a while now for my lack of updates - I truly am sorry that it seems like I've forgotten this. I haven't! But I'll come to that in a minute. Before I give the explanation, I first wanted to say that You Are Music to my Eyes is officially going on hiatus. Not because I want it to, but because I feel like it has to. And I don't rightfully know how long for. At least for a while. Now on to the explanation ~

This hiatus isn't something I want to do at all, and I am fully aware that it is incredibly unfair on those of you who have followed this lil' fic since the beginning, and those of you who have joined since. But for various reasons, it's become something I just can't avoid. I've been trying to convince myself for the last few months that I'm gonna get back into writing it soon. It's always 'THIS week I'll write the new chapter.' 'THIS WEEK FOR SURE'. But sure enough, 'this week' comes and goes, and once again no new chapter has appeared. Once again, it isn't because I don't want to write it - I really, REALLY do. I just.. can't. Partially, because of a reaction I got from someone in my life that kind of killed my confidence in where the story is headed and how I construct the characters and have them interacting with one another.

Now, with saying that, I am in no way looking for comfort or reassurance that the story is good and enjoyed - while I do truly love getting to share this story with the fandom, I AM writing it for myself first and foremost, meaning that I will always push it where I want it to go, and indulge in my own desires for it. However, having my confidence knocked by being told that it wasn't what someone thought I should write was quite hard to swallow, especially seeing as it came at a time when I was reeling from quite a few other knocks as well. This basically resulted in my not being able to open the word document without once again hearing that comment, and remembering the drop in my gut, and subsequently, I have almost become afraid to continue writing it. Again, I'm not looking for comfort or affirmation or anything like that. I just thought it was only fair to tell you guys why there's been no progress after so long. I really am working on getting my groove back with this story, I promise. I love this work, and I love the version of the characters I'm writing. I just don't want to force it before it's ready, because I know then I won't be doing it justice. I won't be doing it for me, for the love of it, but rather to appease the masses, and to me that just isn't the right reason to write. Along side this, I also really DO NOT WANT to accuse anyone of killing my confidence. The fact that the comment derailed me is entirely on me, and me alone. It is my own insecurities as a writer that did this, not anyone else. It's a free world, to do and say as you please in response to media that has been put out there for public consumption. You all have the right to tell me whatever you want about this story, good or bad. I'm just a little fragile hearted, I guess. Either way, no blame is being lain on anyone by me, and I don't want anyone else spreading blame either. Because of this, I refuse to say whether the comment was on here or from me showing someone I know in real life. It could have been either, it could have been both.

Secondly, as a lot of you will know from my previous notes, I just left university. Now, I genuinely thought that leaving university would give me TONS of time to sit and write, and I would have the story updated and finished in a flash. And while it's true that I do now have lots of free time, I don't have time to write. Because that time is often taken up by feeling lost and confused about where the bloody hell my life is going. I'm also having a really hard time focusing on anything now that I don't have a set routine anymore. I'm missing spending my days doing what I love most, something I've spent the last four years doing. And because of that, writing has taken a major backseat for me, specifically this story. Again, this isn't something I want to be doing. I want to feel confident and engaged with my passions, and forge ahead despite seemingly taking such a huge step back. I want to be able to push ahead with what I love, even though I'm having to work in jobs that just aren't what I want to spend my days doing. But my inability to focus on anything (something I've struggled with my whole life) is stopping me. No routine = no ability to self-motivate. Again, this is something I'm working on, and I am working on it through writing, but just in a different way. Instead of writing fanfiction, I am writing a book. I am writing a novel that I'm going to try and get published, and while I know that probably seems quite unfair to those of you who want me to finish this, please hear me out.

I can't keep living my life doing something I don't love. Writing this book is something like an 'out' for me. I write fan fiction for fun. I write it in my spare time for no reason other than because I can. But that won't give me deadlines, and work, and money to pay the bills. Writing this book might, and that's why I'm doing it. I'm doing it with the hope that I can better my life with it, that I can give myself work that makes me want to get up in the mornings, and stay up late finishing. Work that makes me stress in all the ways I miss from uni, and makes me scream with frustration because I love it so much and it just isn't going how I planned. Things I can fight to solve and WANT to fight to solve, rather than be content to let slide. So I won't just be floating anymore. Sadly, fanfiction won't give me that, because it is just a hobby, not a job. And like a lot of creatives, I live to work, not work to live. It will also give me a routine, because unlike with fan fiction, where I can just say, 'oh I was too busy to write today', or 'I just didn't feel like it', this book WILL be work. I'll HAVE to work on it. And like I said earlier, without routine, I have no ability to focus. Basically, whether the book is a success and gets published or not, it will give me the routine and work I so desperately need and crave, and that is the most important thing for me right now.

And in line with that, we come to the future of this fic. I plan to continue working on it relatively soon - just as soon as I get my life back in order. As soon as I stop feeling lost and out of control. I spend a lot of my days in a whirlwind of mental activity, desperately trying to figure out which of the HUNDREDS of ideas I have I should be working on first. Often times I literally stand in my room and spin, switching between things every few seconds because I just can't settle on one. This isn't new, it's just worse now I have no routine. Well, I'm saying now that I'm settling on this book. I'm giving myself an ultimatum. And because of that, this story is taking a time out. I can't keep spinning forever, I have to settle and work, and only after I've done that and found my focus can I start working on multiple things at once again. I'm even stopping a lot of my other hobbies like knitting. I'm even stopping my biggest passion - painting and drawing - because I KNOW I have no chance of making that into a career right now, not with where I live. So writing this book it is. 

I might update this at some point sooner than I'm letting on - hell, I might not, and update my other fic instead. Who knows. I might have a day where I just can't NOT sit and write on one of these. I might write something totally new and post that instead. But realistically, I know I won't. Because I just can't focus. (Incase you can't tell from how fucking ramble-y this got, I can't even focus on this. I've gotten distracted and gone on tangents so many times). This lack of focus is what's making me feel so lost, because I know I have some level of skill, and I could make a decent career for myself, but.. if I can't focus, I can't work. And I'm going to try and fix that with this book.

So, to conclude, I want to be very selfish and ask something of you all - I want to ask that you'll be patient with me. I know I probably shouldn't have undertaken such a huge project if I couldn't finish it, but in all honesty.. I had no idea that my focus would fall apart like this after I left uni. I had no idea I would struggle this much to just sit and do something I really, truly love. Please be patient with me while I fix this. I promise this story is coming back, and I promise I will do everything in my power to make it worth the wait. You're just going to have to wait a little bit longer than I would have liked for that, and I am truly, deeply sorry.

Hota


End file.
